


You've Got Mail

by moloch



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moloch/pseuds/moloch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin Free opens a gaming store two years after the Xbox 360 is released and completely accidentally becomes the go-to man for all things video game related in New York City. Michael Jones is a wealthy businessman with a love for gaming that begins work on building an enormous video gaming store a couple of blocks down from Gavin's shop - quickly becoming Gavin's rival. As Gavin struggles with the sudden competition, he becomes closer to a man he met in a chatroom through anonymous daily emails. However, what he fails to realize until it's too late is that the man he's emailing is none other than the man he seemingly hates the most - Michael Jones himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Got Mail

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely artwork by Eli/Prince (princeshutup on Tumblr)! Nora Ephron has been my queen since the age of three. I've been wanting to write a fic like this for ages, and I'm so glad I got the inspiration and opportunity to. Plus - look at the artwork! It's utterly perfect.
> 
> Update 04/23/15: I no longer have Prince's Tumblr; the above username is no longer in use. Also, goddamn this fic is OLD and BAD, I'll return soon for heavy proofreading. <3

-

 

The day started out like this.

 

An alarm would go off at 6:00 every morning. One hand would grab for a phone to shut off the obnoxious music while another slapped the OFF button on a nearby clock. After that ordeal, the owners of the hands would contemplate whether it was worth it to sleep for five more minutes. 

 

Usually, they behaved, rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the shower. 

 

After the shower, they brushed their teeth and put on their clothes for the day. 

 

The business man, Michael Jones, would grudgingly pick out a tie to go with his tailored pants and white button down shirt.

 

The shop owner, Gavin Free, would shrug on a t-shirt with a dumb slogan on it (today’s blaring the dynamic phrase, ‘TOUCH MY AWESOME BUTTON’) as well as a pair of old, baggy jeans. 

 

Once dressed, more or less, the breakfast routine began. 

 

 Michael always had a glass of milk to go with eggs or something fried – something that would fill him up until lunch rolled around. He'd stand around at the burners, frying whatever he'd decided to eat that morning. 

 

Gavin - on the days that he actually ate breakfast - would opt for the standard bowl of cereal or a nutty health bar that he could munch on as he made his way into his living room from the kitchen. 

 

Once both men's breakfast was either picked out or cooked, it was then time for the morning Internet routine. 

 

They'd each sit and open their laptops to turn them on before selecting the AOL browser from their desktop. 

 

As the Internet loaded, they'd eat impatiently. Finally, when the dial-up was complete, there would be a tense moment as they waited for a familiar voice to say–

 

“You've Got Mail!”

 

-

 

An elated grin crept onto Gavin's face at the words. He quickly moved his cursor to the open mailbox on the top left corner of his screen and bit his lip as his email loaded. 

 

He deleted some spam messages before letting out a soft laugh at seeing: **NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : Bowser

 

Gavin eagerly clicked on the message, eyes immediately scanning the email, taking it all in. 

 

He'd been emailing mogarj daily for nearly a year, having met him in a '30 Under 30' chat room on AOL – which was, yes, tacky. But Gavin was definitely under thirty years old, and being bored on a Saturday night can honestly drive a person absolutely bonkers. 

 

There were no names or exact locations exchanged, only gender and age. Mogarj was a 26 year old male who lived in New York City. And apparently had a dog named Bowser, according to his new email. 

 

Even though he wouldn't admit it to himself, the absolute highlight of Gavin's day was seeing email in his inbox from mogarj. 

 

Whoever he was. 

 

So Gavin happily smirked and laughed at the right points in mogarj's email, poising his fingers over his laptop's keyboard for a reply while simultaneously, somewhere in the city (unbeknownst to Gavin), a young man was cursing angrily at a dial-up screen. 

 

-

 

"What the fuck, you piece of shit."

 

The man, Michael Jones, was standing in his kitchen, hovering over a slim black laptop on top of a coffee table. He had a glass of milk dangerously next to a ham and cheese omelet somewhere amongst a mess of papers taking up space on the table, but the food was obviously not Michael's first priority. 

 

Instead, the dial-up screen on his computer had taken up most of his energy and anger that morning, and so he did what he did best: scream and curse it out. 

 

"Fuck!" he yelled, obviously frustrated. 

 

Even though it would be embarrassing to admit, Michael wasn't using up his energy yelling at an electronic device at seven o'clock in the morning because he had work to finish or papers to write up, like a responsible businessman. In reality, Michael was raging because now was around the time that a certain man somewhere in New York City replied to his emails. 

 

That man was not a business partner or funder for Michael's new video game store (opening soon!). 

 

That man was only known to Michael as marknutt. 

 

Which wasn't actually a real name. 

 

(Michael had googled it.) 

 

In reality, it was just a really stupid email account with a really stupid username. 

 

All he really knew about marknutt was that he was 25, born in Oxfordshire, England, and had moved to New York a couple years previously. 

 

And that he hung out in '30 Under 30' chat rooms when he was bored out of his mind. 

 

Meanwhile, Michael's angry red flush had settled somewhere in the region of his neck, veins nearly sticking out due to how fucking annoyed he was at the asshole symbols on his screen that wouldn't load. 

 

Pissed off, Michael huffily snatched up his food and tore into it, alternating between sips of milk and glares at his laptop, as though it had personally offended him just by existing. 

 

Forty-six minutes later, Michael had finished his breakfast and had sunken into his couch, sullenly staring blankly at a blank television screen (off) with a sleepy golden retriever snuffling around at his feet. 

 

But in the next instant, the dog's ears perked up, and Michael's laptop was happily exclaiming: "You've Got Mail!"

 

In two ticks, Michael was off of his ass and looming into the face of his laptop, nearly plunging face-first into his coffee table. 

 

He gently nudged his cursor into the top left corner of the screen and grinned when he saw: **NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : New York City

 

marknutt's opener was a response to Michael's dumb little email about his dog, Bowser (which had been embarrassingly long and was full of stories about how his dog liked to chase pigeons in the park and eat his ties).

 

The opener was polite and hilarious, with marknutt throwing in dumb little British sayings probably unconsciously, like how "top" it was that Michael had a dog named 'Bowser', how catchy it was, and the cutest, dumbest little question: Does he have his own castle? 

 

However, after marknutt stopped gushing Britishly about his dog, he moved on to his subject: NYC. Michael's favorite part of the email was when he said: "I love New York. But when those damned tourists that come during the goddamn summer stop in the middle of the street to take a photo of some stupid, unknown high-rise that's probably just another ugly condominium, it makes me want to tear my hair out and scream at them to bugger off back to where they came from. 

 

Is that hypocritical, considering that I was one of them once? If it was, don't tell me, you mong."

 

Michael had no idea what a 'mong' was, but it sounded extremely fucking endearing when marknutt said it. 

 

...endearing in a manly way. Of course.

 

Fuck off, he went to the gym three times a week. And drank protein shakes that tasted like shit. Because Michael fucking Jones was a _man_.

 

Michael paused at that thought and simply pushed it away with a note to watch more wrestling shows on TV. 

 

Soon, Michael found a tiny smile on his face as he closed his laptop before sliding it into his sleek work bag. He would reply to the email when he was done with his paperwork for the day. It was just a routine, one that worked – Michael wrote his emails either at ungodly hours of the night or after work hours, and marknutt replied either at reasonable hours of the morning or at 3AM, when he was suffering from insomnia. At least one email sent from each of them daily, and they never missed a day. 

 

And that was apparently enough to make Michael happy throughout his grueling day of fuckery, one that was filled with endless papers and checks to sign as well as floor plans to look over and competition to check out. 

 

That day started now. He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, said a goodbye to Bowser: “Don’t pee on the floor, asshole,” and left for work.

 

-

 

Gavin Free had moved to New York City from England. Occasionally, his friends called him an idiot for making that decision. And sometimes, he agreed. America was nice – you could get a hamburger for a dollar! – but America was a consumerist society. Small businesses were beginning to fail due to the horrific department store trend, and everything was just getting pretty complicated.

 

Blatantly ignoring all of that, Gavin opened up a video game store in 2006 - one year after the Xbox 360 was released by Microsoft. It was a good time to open up such a store, so Gavin had done well and continued to make a good profit from the shop.

 

While Gavin was the owner of the shop, he had his two friends Geoff and Griffon Ramsey help him out near the beginning. They had been friends for _years_ , and ended up working in Gavin’s store because it had done so well. Geoff’s idea was to name the store Achievement Hunter.

Geoff and Griffon knew quite a lot about video games. Griffon had even run a little blog with their mutual friend, Burnie Burns, called _Immersion_ , which dictated how actual humans would fare in video games.

 

After a couple of months, Gavin had learned nearly everything that they knew. And within a year, Achievement Hunter had become the go-to place in New York City for everything video game related. Geoff, Griffon, and Gavin were on fire.

 

It was 2009, and they were at the height of their popularity.

 

-

 

At 8 A.M., Gavin opened up the store and flipped the sign on the inside of the door over so that it happily said “We’re Open!” He then went to the coat rack in the corner and threw his jacket onto the hook. A huge grin was on his face, and to be honest - it kind of hurt his cheeks. But of course, thinking about _why_ he was smiling just made him smile harder and somehow more stupidly, so he attempted to ignore his thoughts and instead went to clean behind the cashier counter.

 

Around ten minutes later, the door opened, Geoff Ramsey bracing it casually open. Griffon slid inside after a light elbow to Geoff’s stomach, and he followed her in with a little smirk.

 

“Morning!” she called out to Gavin, a subtle smile on her face.

 

Gavin stood from where he had been cleaning and grinned at her. “Same to you, love!”

 

Griffon walked towards a coat rack to put her jacket up as Geoff closed the door behind him securely and shrugged off his coat as well. After he threw his coat onto the rack haphazardly, Griffon gave Geoff a tiny peck on the lips and beamed happily at him, her hand resting lightly on his chest.

 

“Those new arrivals from yesterday still need unpacking.”

 

Geoff smirked and nodded. “I’m on it.”

 

With that, he made his way to the back, opened the red door covered in Mario stickers, closed it behind him, and got to work.

 

Griffon made her way over to the counter.

 

“So. You’re pretty smiley this dreadful morning,” she said, resting her elbows on the counter and raising a brow at him.

 

 

Gavin kept a blush under control, shrugging the question off. “What?” he said intelligently, still smiling, grabbing a clean cloth and wiping the face of the glass counter clean.-

 

Griffon rolled her eyes, straightening up and stepping away from the counter. She punched a few numbers into the cash register, letting it ‘ding’ open before she casually said to Gavin, “That’s a sex smile.”

 

Gavin immediately choked on nothing, his head flying up to meet Griffon’s eye. “What?”

 

Griffon rolled her eyes. “You’re not _twelve_ , Gav. If I were male, 25, _you_ and I got a blowie after years of celibacy, I’d be grinning about it too.”

 

Gavin immediately started grinning out of embarrassment. “Not – _years_.” Gavin said matter-of-factly, before spitting out: “But seriously, I didn’t get a blowjob last night.”

 

Griffon shrugged, eyeing the cash register. “Sucks for you, then.”

 

There was a moment of silence before she looked up from counting the fives in the cash bin. “So why are you so happy? I mean, if it’s not sex, it’s…”

 

Griffon trailed off, a tiny smirk on her face. Her gaze had flopped back down to the piles of bills in the bin.

 

Gavin looked behind him at her sudden silence, noting her sly grin. He was almost scared to ask. “What?”

 

“Gavin Asshole Free, you’re in love.”

 

Gavin paused in his cleaning, avoiding eye contact, before immediately declaring that the idea of him being in love was bollocks. “I’m not in love, Griffon. Who would I even be in love _with_?”

 

He tossed the cloth onto a nearby box behind the counter and moved away to try and control his grin. He ended up staring at a nearby Super Mario Bros. poster with Bowser on it and had to slap a hand over his mouth before he let out a giggle due to thinking about Michael’s email. A _manly_ giggle.

 

Griffon bent over and grabbed a roll of quarters from a drawer before cracking it on the edge of the counter and spilling the contents into the appropriate slot in the register.

 

“I wouldn’t know.” She pushed the cash register’s door closed smoothly before walking up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “But you’re definitely acting like an idiot in love.” She grinned slyly and went off in the direction of the back room before Gavin could even give an indignant shout or defend himself.

 

At least she had gone. Gavin felt his ears grow warm, and he slapped a hand over his eyes with a low groan.

 

The door to the shop opened, so he got himself together and waved to the customers with a bright smile before asking them if they needed any help.

 

Griffon had one in on him, and she wasn’t going to let it go. Gavin just hoped that she didn’t tell Geoff.

 

-

 

“Tell me how we’re doing, Jones.”

 

Michael was in the CEO’s office. It was less than two months until they opened the biggest video game retailer that New York had ever seen.

 

Like anyone, they obviously had competition – but Michael was completely sure that it would be nothing that they could handle.

 

“Well, Mr. Burns, it’s two months until we open the doors to Jones’ Games. We’ve done well with construction and are about two weeks away from stocking the shelves and hooking everything up.”

 

The CEO nodded appreciatively. “Good, good. And the competition?”

 

Michael shrugged. “There’s a tiny shop on the Lower East Side that supplies consoles, but not much else. The only place that poses a bit of a threat is Gavin Free’s Achievement Hunter.”

 

Michael had done his research. Achievement Hunter had been the place that _everyone_ went to if they were buying their first console, new games, posters, even novelty stuffed animals. Achievement Hunter nearly had it all, and their business was booming.

 

Burns raised an eyebrow, his hands clasped over his stomach behind his desk. “A bit of a _threat_ , Jones?”

 

Michael waved the question away carelessly. “Sir, Achievement Hunter is a tiny shop. When we open, they won’t be a problem in the slightest.”

 

The CEO nodded. “Alright, Jones. Good work.”

 

Michael nodded back politely before leaving the office.

 

Everything was going perfectly. Achievement Hunter would be nothing when Jones’ Games opened.

 

-

 

**August 20 th, 2009**

8:36P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : The Subway

 

Evening!

 

The subway system of New York is so convenient, isn’t it?

 

(Back in Oxford, if I wanted to get around, I’d walk. Everything I needed was pretty close, but if I wanted to go into London, I’d mack about on the Tube.

 

It was around £13 to get there, and £15 to get back to Oxford.

 

Here, it’s only $2.25 both ways! That’s magnificent!)

 

Today on the train, my car was invaded by a couple of dancers.

 

They had a CD player with some peppy dance music on it, and they danced from 14th St. until 34th. They were quite top, hanging from the grips on the ceiling and swinging about on poles even with the car bumping everywhere on the rail.

 

I gave them a dollar before they left.

 

I used to think that I hated Fall, but it’s not so bad, is it?

 

-

 

**August 27 th, 2009**

7:05A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : Overpriced Goodness

 

On 80th and Broadway, people fucking flock to a certain place for overpriced, beautiful food.

 

_Zabar’s_.

 

Yes, the italics were necessary.

 

I go there once a week for bread and shit. I mean, you wouldn’t cast me as a gourmet type of guy, would you? Now I’m wondering what you think of me.

 

Anyway, I usually get bread, croissants, ham, cheese - normal stuff, you know?

 

It’s always crowded, always filled with unhappy people. Like me.

 

The only time you find a smile on someone’s face is when they’ve just received a free sample.

 

Whenever I check out, I feel like my wallet should hurt.

 

But dude. The food is so fucking great.

 

Go there sometime, yeah? If you haven’t been yet.

 

It’s like a foodgasm or whatever the fuck.

 

-

 

**September 5 th, 2009**

10:26 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : Oh mY GOd????

 

I went to Zabar’s!!!!

 

_**I went to Zabar’s.**_

EVERYTHING IS DELICIOUS

 

-

 

**September 10 th, 2009**

11:09 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : Starbucks

 

Everything in Starbucks is complicated.

 

_Everything_.

 

I don’t get it, coffee used to be so simple.

 

Now you have 257 different combinations!

 

Fucking lattes, Americanos, espressos, cappuccinos, _iced_ shit, anything and everything that you can think of, Starbucks supplies it.

 

How am I supposed to make it to work on time when there are six people on line in front of me ordering variations of a fucking venti iced caramel-mocha macchiato with extra whipped cream and seven types of drizzle?! _Double blended?!_

And don’t judge, asshole. I only know that because I happened to be behind a douche who ordered this today.

 

Ten minutes late for work.

 

Hope your day was better.

 

-

 

**Early September**

 

Geoff had been walking back from a nearby pizzeria after his lunch break, having consumed two meat-lover’s slices as well as a beer. He had always wanted to take a lunch break with his wife, but they couldn’t leave Gavin alone at Achievement Hunter. They had too many customers.

 

On the way back to the store, he noticed something while he was two blocks away – huge, ugly red and blue lettering against an incredibly enormous white wall hiding everything, covering the interior of the building until it was ready to be opened.

 

The words were a slap in the face. Geoff stopped immediately.

 

“Jones’ Games – Coming Soon!” Geoff read, under his breath.

 

His eyes traveled across the white wall, taking in the repeated words: Jones’ Games – Coming Soon!, Jones’ Games – Coming Soon!, until he found what he was looking for.

 

Grand Opening November 1st, 2009.

 

“Fuck.”

 

-

 

The evening of September 12th, 2009 found Gavin Free and the Ramseys standing in front of the white exterior of what was meant to be Jones’ Games in a few short weeks.

 

“Are we fucked?” Griffon said quietly, arms crossed to ward off a bit of the cold, her breath coming out in puffs.

 

Gavin scoffed pissily, arms flying out against his will. “We’re not fucked. It’s just another consumerist plot, isn’t it?” He cast a glance at his friends, hoping to get a nod of agreement, but no nod came. They just stood there, staring at the red and blue lettering.

 

After a couple of minutes, Geoff finally shrugged and opened his mouth.

 

“I mean …they probably do discount.”

 

Griffon hit his arm.

 

Gavin bit his lip.

 

“We’ll be fine, guys. Stores like that are impersonal! We’ve got heart, and all that bloody shit.”

 

Geoff and Griffon nodded enthusiastically.

 

“Just to be safe, though,” Geoff began, turning slightly in Gavin’s direction.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Maybe discount isn’t such a bad idea.”

 

-

 

“Hey, thanks for agreeing on taking care of the kids.”

 

Michael waved his best friend off, making a sound of indignation.

 

“Dude. It’s _fine._ ”

 

“It’s just that Joel’s so busy, still dealing with that …stock market shit,” Ray muttered, not really sure of what “stock market shit” entailed, if he was completely honest with himself.

 

Michael nodded, smiling slightly. “Yeah, man. I get it. I love seeing Joe and Kathleen. It’s not a problem.”

 

Almost on cue, his legs were head butted by two tiny kids that had just run into the living room where he was standing – Ray’s kids, Joe and Kathleen. Kathleen was six, with Joe being half her age at three. They had been adopted around two years before. Ray and Joel had become partners about five or six years ago, and Michael had always known that they were going to settle down, even if they couldn’t marry yet.

 

Michael beamed down at the kids, and they giggled back up at him, hugging his legs. He ruffled up Joe’s hair before turning his attention back to Ray, who was currently grinning at his kids.

 

“So what’ll you be doing with your day off, dad?” he said a little sarcastically as Joe squealed and patted down his hair.

 

Ray laughed and said, “Play video games.”

 

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically and restrained himself from punching Ray in the arm.

 

“Kidding, kidding. I gotta pick a lot of stuff up for something.” He then hid his mouth by covering the side of it with a hand and mouthed at Michael: “Birthday,” then pointed surreptitiously at Joe. Michael nodded quickly before turning and walking to his kitchen counter to grab his cell phone, Kathleen still attached to his leg.

 

“Got it, dude. Call me if you need anything.” Michael cast a smile back at Ray before pocketing his phone.

 

Ray gave him a thumbs up.

 

“Alright, say bye, guys!” he called, walking backwards to the door.

 

“Bye, daddy!” Joe and Kathleen shouted in unison.

 

Ray’s grin was big enough to melt the heart of the meanest guy in New York City.

 

-

 

So that’s how Michael Jones, soon to be owner of Jones’ Games, found himself standing in the middle of a street fair with his best friend's two kids, holding a goldfish trapped in a plastic bag in his arms, with several colorful balloons tied to his wrist. The eldest girl (Kathleen), was dragging her little brother (Joe), to various little carnival games, winning tiny stuffed animals that the two kids would immediately toss into Michael's arms next to the imprisoned goldfish. 

 

For his part, Michael was contentedly dealing with the indifference from the children. And he was proud of how he was dealing with the situation. He really was. 

 

But of course, life was shit, and Joe managed to fall face first into the pavement with a loud screech. Kathleen wasn’t too far behind him, although she was able to stay upright, her hands clamped over her mouth in shock. 

 

Michael blinked, unmoving, arms full with the pile of toys. "Shit," he muttered to himself, running up to the kids while still keeping everything balanced in his arms. 

 

“Shit, shit, shit.”

 

Later, with Joe back on his feet and Kathleen smiling again, Michael took a breather, and with the promise of video games for their entire family, they shoved everything into Michael's car (except for the goldfish), and walked over to a local gaming shop. Michael had already done extensive research on the shop, considering that it was going to be his competition when Jones’ Games finally opened, but he had never actually stepped inside. The logo on the outside of the shop was slightly worn with age, emblazoned with “Achievement Hunter” in a silvery-white.

 

Next to the name on either side was a tiny dark grey joystick sitting in the middle of a bright, lime green star, which was surrounded by a white and green circle (the same type of green as the star).

 

Michael hid his tiny smirk in the collar of his jacket and ushered the kids inside. 

 

Once actually indoors, Michael was immediately confronted by a salesgirl with a septum piercing and both of her arms tattooed. 

 

"The name's Griffon," she said matter-of-factly, then pointed to her name tag. "That's how it's spelled. Need anything?"

 

Michael blinked. "Uh, no, we're just looking." 

 

Griffon nodded, already turning to leave. "If you need anything, Gav and Geoff are also here. In the back." A tiny pause before an amused smile popped onto her face. “Nice fish.”

 

Michael flashed a smile at her, nodding quickly and murmuring a thanks before bending over to talk to Kathleen and Joe. "Well, go ahead. Get games for yourselves and some games for Ray and Joel." 

 

After grinning hugely at him, Kathleen and Joe ran off to separate sides of the store, looking for games for their dads. 

 

Michael straightened and gave another awkward smile to Griffon before making his way to the back. 

 

As Michael made his way to the back of the shop, he took in the various gaming items that were on display: stacks of video games arranged what seemed to be alphabetically on black, sleek shelves, collector's item stuffed toys of Mario, Luigi, and Bowser, as well as posters dotting the walls everywhere Michael looked.

 

In the center of the shop itself, there were bins of games on sale as well as cardboard cutouts promoting new games that had just been released, along with games that were expected to be released.

 

Michael _had_ done his research on the shop to check out the competition, but he honestly wasn't expecting such a cluttered yet cozy nature to the place. Michael felt like this shop was somewhere he would hang out and play games in, especially because nearer to the back, there were Xboxes and Gameboys set up for demo game playing.

 

He immediately stopped his trek to the back room and picked up the Xbox controller. The one he chose had the 2006 FIFA World Cup game set up on it, and Michael happily played for a little while before setting the controller down and smiling to himself, moving once more to the back.

 

He finally made it to the very back of the store where he was kept company by some very old games like Donkey Kong and Dig Dug, as well as a Pac-Man machine. The only other place left to go was through a plain, red door with a hoard of gaming stickers plastered on it near the doorknob. Michael shrugged to himself and gripped the knob firmly, twisting it slightly and giving it a pull before the door flew open and a huge nose was almost pressing against his. 

 

"Whoa there," the owner of the nose exclaimed, a musky British accent making his words weirdly crisp as he managed to stumble backwards and nudge the door closed. As the man pushed himself backwards against the door to both close it as well as make a bit of space between them, Michael was able to take in his features: dark, greenish brown eyes above the really gigantic nose, with sort of darkish, sandy colored hair arranged in a spiky-fluffy hairstyle that Michael deemed as being able to defy the laws of gravity. 

 

Finally remembering where he was, Michael dragged his eyes down from the enigma that was the man's hair and down to his smiling mouth, a feature that had Michael immediately mirroring it on his own face.

 

"Sorry, man." Michael muttered quickly, looking down and ruffling his hair. "Griffon said to check out the back if I needed anything."

 

The man nodded vigorously, still smiling. "Alright, no problem. What did you need?" 

 

Michael hadn't gotten that far in his head. "Uh, well," he dragged out, beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. "What are your new releases?" he spat out quickly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose jeans. Hey, who would wear suits on their day off? Hell if it was Michael.

 

The man absorbed his question before walking off to the front of the shop, gesturing for Michael to follow him. Griffon had gone off to help Kathleen and Joe find a certain “special” game for their dads, so Michael ended up alone with the man by the cash register. 

 

"Well," the man began as he pulled out several game cases, "we've just got these in stock, and Modern Warfare 2 literally came in yesterday." 

 

Michael nodded slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Uh, cool." He paused, unsure of how to both ease the tension and get to know his competition a little better. He went with simply introducing himself, albeit a little nervously.

 

"I'm Michael." 

 

The man raised an eyebrow quizzically at the abrupt change of subject before promptly relaxing his face and laughing breathlessly, placing the games down onto the glass counter near his hip. "Damn, I completely forgot. I'm Gavin, the owner." Gavin grinned brightly, extending his hand out for a handshake.

 

 Michael automatically met his hand and shook firmly, a businessman's grip. Gavin paid no mind to his weird behavior, instead choosing to laugh quietly and point out the games laid out on the table once more. 

 

"Why don't you have a look at those?" Gavin suggested, giving him a flash of a smile before going off somewhere where Michael couldn't see him anymore. Michael nodded, already picking up one of the games to read the back. 

 

For fuck’s sake, who the fuck reads the back of a video game? 

 

Apparently, this idiot.

 

Some time later, Gavin popped up behind Michael again, a grin in his voice. "Hey, Michael," he whispered playfully, accent mangling Michael's name, "Are they yours? They're absolutely adorable." 

 

Michael turned around slowly, only to end up nose to nose with Gavin again. He swallowed thickly. "Nah, they're my friends',” he muttered quietly.

 

Gavin nodded appreciatively, finally taking a tiny step back. "You looked a little young for an eight year old, no offense."

 

Michael laughed softly. "Six, actually. And well, they're adopted. The other one is three. My friend, Ray, is in his mid twenties like me, and his partner, Joel, is in his late thirties. They wanted younger kids."

 

Gavin's eyebrows raised before a huge grin took over his face. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed. 

 

Michael nodded. "Yeah, they're pretty great," he said, unsure of whether Gavin was referring to the kids or to his friends. 

 

They smiled at each other for a few seconds before Michael's legs were attacked yet again by Kathleen and Joe simultaneously. "We got our games!" Joe screeched into his pant leg. 

 

Michael reached down with his ninja reflexes and picked Joe up lightning-fast before staring him down. "Whatchu got, little man?" he whispered darkly, directing it at Joe’s pudgy little face. Gavin, off to his right, looked delighted. 

 

"Two games, dude!" Joe said excitedly. 

 

Michael smirked, giving him a high five before turning to Kathleen. "And you?"

 

"Two! For daddy and papa!" she said with a huge, toothy grin. 

 

"Good work, troopers," Michael fist bumped Kathleen before smiling at Gavin politely. "Well, that's all we need."

 

"You got it," Gavin said with an almost flirtatious wink. 

 

Michael could feel a slight blush coming on, so he turned his face into his collar and pretended to cough lightly. 

 

Gavin beamed, collecting the games from Joe and Kathleen's outstretched hands. He rang them up, the total coming to around two hundred and five dollars. Michael handed over the money, and Gavin made change swiftly. However, he had no bags to put the games in, so he held a hand up and tripped off to the side, where a burly man that Michael hadn't noticed before was standing, adjusting a poster on the wall. 

 

Michael raised an eyebrow curiously as the man turned towards Gavin, nodded, and murmured something quietly. Then he bent down and grabbed a pile of plastic bags out of a bin nearby. Gavin smiled and said "Thanks, Geoff!" before returning to Michael and the kids and putting their games into a plastic bag. 

 

Michael blinked slowly, taking in Geoff's appearance. Gavin certainly hired some cool people to work for him. He took in Geoff's tattooed, strong arms, and smiled politely when Geoff met his gaze. 

 

What Michael hadn't expected was for Geoff to come over and say hi. 

 

Kathleen had grabbed the bag from Gavin's hand automatically, and was prancing around with Joe, nearly bumping into a Nintendo 64 shelf nearby. Before Michael could shout for them to stop before they left remains of their eyes in Gavin's shop, Geoff was in front of him, a friendly smile on his face. 

 

"Hey, never seen you around here." 

 

Michael smiled again. "Nah, man. It's the first time I've been in this area." Geoff nodded appreciatively before nudging Gavin in the ribs. "I like seeing new customers, especially when they've got little kids." 

 

Gavin grinned happily. "Geoff's got a six year old named Millie. She's the light of his life." 

 

Michael nodded politely, having not expected the sudden small talk.

 

Geoff gave a tiny wave to Joe and Kathleen, who waved back enthusiastically, before he turned back around to return to his work. Michael wasn’t about to stop him from doing his thing, so he turned his attention back to Gavin.

 

“So, we’re gonna–”

 

“Hey, Joe! Look at this!” Kathleen screeched unexpectedly, jabbing a finger at an Indiana Jones game on the shelf  nearest to the exit. “It says Jones, just like M–”

 

Michael’s eyes widened. His heart rate was insanely fast, but he managed to blurt out: “Just like the big store that’s opening up next month, yeah!” He exclaimed loudly, cutting off Kathleen.

 

Joe smiled happily up at Michael. “J – O – N – E – S!”

 

Michael smiled, acting like he wasn’t panicking quietly. “You can spell the name! Wow! I wonder who taught you that…” Michael muttered, cursing Ray and Joel under his breath.

 

He turned back again to see Gavin frowning slightly. It was pretty obvious that he had heard about Jones’ Games already. Michael bit his lip and waved at Gavin before saying, “Alright, time to go! It was nice meeting you, Gavin.”

 

Gavin shook off his disapproval at hearing the name of his new competitor and smiled softly at Michael before waving a goodbye to the kids.

 

“Byeeeeeeee!” Kathleen and Joe chorused, before Michael swept them out the door along with the games and the dumb fucking goldfish in his hand.

 

Michael could hear Gavin’s laughter as the door shut behind him.

 

-

 

**November 1 st, 2009**

On the day of the grand opening of Jones’ Games, people lined up two hours before the store actually opened the doors for the first time. Michael and Burnie Burns, the CEO of his company watched complacently from the top floor’s offices as 9 A.M. rolled around. The people flooded in.

 

Michael calmly led himself and Mr. Burns around the entire store, from the base up.

 

On the ground floor, the newest releases as well as consoles and controllers were meticulously laid out. Every shelf was stocked with games, every boxed console was stacked in pyramids that were pleasing to the eye, and the controllers garnished the walls.

 

However, as you moved up through the floors, there were more games, more consoles, and more things to buy. There were video game magazines lining shelves that neighbored a huge café on the second floor.

 

But the third floor hid their secret weapon.

 

The third floor held a massive space where customers could play the newest video game releases on the newest consoles. They had a corner where customers could play on beanbags. Another corner held sofas. There were vending machines there, the final touch to a perfect room. Not to mention that the customers didn’t have to pay jack shit to play the games.

 

The store was a nerd’s wet dream.

 

And it was flawless.

 

-

 

 

**November 30 th, 2009**

“We can’t act like it hasn’t hit us,” Griffon called to Gavin late one evening from the back room. She was at a desktop computer, checking the shop’s records.

 

Gavin gnawed on his lip, running into the back for damage control.

 

“How bad?”

 

Griffon paused for a moment before asking Geoff to hand her a pad of paper from a nearby desk. After Geoff gave it to her, she pointed at a couple of numbers on the pad.

 

“This is how much we made in November 2008.”

 

Gavin nodded. It was a sizable amount, but he knew what was coming.

 

Griffon’s index finger moved down to another figure on the page.

 

“This is how much we made this month.”

 

There was about a two thousand dollar deficit.

 

Gavin sighed heavily, pushing his hand through his hair. Both Griffon and Geoff were waiting for him to say something.

 

“We’ll be okay.”

 

-

 

**December 15 th, 2009**

Two weeks away from Christmas, a party was thrown somewhere on the Upper East Side.

 

It wasn’t _quite_ a Christmas party, so people attended without feeling guilty about not having bought a gift for the hosts.

 

However, it was one of those parties where people stood around to chat with drinks balanced in one hand like classy motherfuckers in old movies.

 

It just so happened that Gavin Free was invited to this particular not-quite-a-Christmas party. What? He had connections.

 

Unfortunately, Michael Jones did as well.

 

-

 

Within half an hour of being at the party, Gavin was bored. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone, having been told that he could have a plus one.

 

Naturally, he bent the rules and made that a plus two – Geoff and Griffon.

 

They got a babysitter for Millie, something that they weren’t used to. They’d always been able to drop her off at school and pick her up on work days with no problem; no babysitter needed. On weekends, either Geoff or Griffon would stay home with her, or they’d take her to Achievement Hunter.

 

So obviously, the Ramseys were a little paranoid.

 

Okay, more than a little paranoid.

 

Geoff had called the babysitter twice since they had arrived half an hour ago; making sure that everything was alright.

 

Gavin had laughed at his over protectiveness but thought it was sweet that he cared so much about his little girl.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Gavin had emptied his first drink and Geoff and Griffon were distracted by another partygoer who had started a conversation with them. Gavin slipped away and found his way to the drink table, asking for a glass of the same drink he had before.

 

As he waited, he looked at his surroundings, smiling at the other people who were standing near him, waiting for a drink.

 

Within the next thirty seconds, he had spotted a familiar mop of hair. He blinked, trying to catch the man’s eye by waving a hand in his field of view.  The man turned to him slowly, and Gavin grinned lightly.

 

“Michael, right?”

 

Michael’s face could only be described as solemn.

 

“And your name is Gavin.”

 

Gavin blinked, mouth stuttering over random syllables as Michael grabbed his drink and left for the table of food that was sitting in the dining area.

 

“What?”

 

Gavin stood there, nearly wobbling on his own two feet for a minute before his drink was made. When the bartender handed over his glass, he murmured a quiet thank you and made a bee line right for Geoff and Griffon, about to tell them what had just happened. Michael had seemed so nice at the shop, he didn’t understand what he had done wro _—_

 

A smiling woman with long, blond hair stopped right in front of Gavin. She seemed to be restraining laughter. Gavin raised a quick eyebrow at her, startled.

 

“I can’t believe you were talking to Michael Jones!” she cried, mouth stretched into a smile. She took a casual drink of her wine, her eyes wide.

 

Gavin blinked twice, slowly.

 

“Michael _Jones_?”

 

The woman nodded vigorously. “Jones! As in, like, the new video game superhero. Or whatever.”

 

Then she took off, obviously a little drunk. She nearly crashed into a couple on her way back from talking to Gavin.

 

Gavin frowned before downing the rest of his drink and putting it down on a nearby table with a loud clatter. He moved past Griffon and Geoff swiftly, who were still talking to the partygoer from earlier, and made his way right up to the dining room, where Michael was standing alone. Gavin moved right up to him, scowling darkly.

 

“Michael Jones?”

 

Michael looked up at him from the food he had been staring at before looking away again and placing some deviled eggs on his plate next to a green salad.

 

“Indiana Jones.”

 

Gavin followed him around the food table, ignoring the sarcasm. “Michael _Jones_ ,” he spat out. “As in Jones’ Games - as in Achievement Hunter’s competition!”

 

Michael sighed deeply, still avoiding Gavin’s angry gaze.

 

Unfortunately, that’s when Gavin had his first revelation. “You were spying on me!”

 

Michael moved away to look at the cuts of steak.

 

“You were spying on me, and – and you had children! Are those children even yours? Did you buy those children? Oh my god, do their parents know where they are?’

 

Michael finally looked up at Gavin with an incredulous gaze. “What? I wasn’t lying about the kids, you idiot, they’re my _friend’s kids_ , why would I lie about that?”

 

“Why were you spying on me?” Gavin demanded, pushing closer to Michael.

 

Michael huffed out an agitated breath. “I wasn’t _spying_. I was at a street fair with Joe and Kathleen, I wanted to buy their family presents, and what other gift is better than video games? Your shop was in the area, so we went to your shop!”

Gavin, about to reply, opened his mouth, only to have Michael cut him off again.

“It’s a great place, Achievement Hunter, really. It was warm and cozy and had character. You somehow made it into a family store, and it was the only place to buy video games in Manhattan that’s actually worth people’s time. But, of course, that’s no longer the case,” Michael continued with a tiny smirk.

 

Gavin’s mouth fell open automatically, and a strangled noise came out of his mouth.

 

Luckily, Geoff and Griffon came up to him, smiling widely.

 

“Hey, Gav,” Geoff said happily before turning to Michael, about to mention that he remembered him. Geoff’s mouth opened slightly, and Michael smiled politely, holding his hand out for a handshake. When Geoff’s hand met his, he introduced himself.

 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Michael Jones.”

 

Geoff’s firm grip slacked a bit, and he pulled back before casting Griffon a worried glance. Gavin was still between them, anger written on his face.

 

“Michael Jones? Uh, wow, nice to meet you,” Geoff muttered. “You’re the owner of the, uh, the new video game store?”

 

Michael smiled happily.

 

“We do discount.”

 

Gavin’s hot glare was enough for Michael to get the hint. He turned and left to finish what he had started by coming here -  socializing.

 

-

 

**December 16 th, 2009**

3:21 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt **SUBJECT LINE** : Feeling Shitty

 

Hi

 

I went out today

 

And I got really mad because of this stupid person

 

Sometimes I wish that I could just say what I want to

 

 you know???

 

I either never say anything or I just say something stupid

 

And that sucks

 

Like a lot

 

wow

 

I may be a tad drunk

 

oops

 

-

**December 16 th, 2009**

3:30 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: Feeling Shitty

 

Hey man, are you okay?

-

 

**December 16 th, 2009**

3:34 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: RE: Feeling Shitty

 

nope

-

**December 16 th, 2009**

3:41 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: RE: RE: Feeling Shitty

 

Let me just say something.

 

I wish I could have your problem.

 

If something pisses me off, I scream about it until it doesn’t bother me anymore.

 

Sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all, because usually, when you finally say what’s on your mind, you just feel sick.

 

-

 

**December 16 th, 2009**

4:03 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: RE: RE: RE: Feeling Shitty

 

I wish I could say what’s on my mind just once because maybe then i wouldn’t be scared

 

But thanks

 

**-**

**December 16 th, 2009**

4:10 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : -

 

I’ll send you an instant message.

 

-

 

Gavin was thankful for all of the advice that mogarj had given him after his shitty night. They had stayed up all night together, and even though Gavin knew he had work in a couple hours, he was happy to stay up with the other man.

 

After Gavin’s last email, mogarj had requested him to join a private instant message chat so that it was easier for them to talk. It had been normal. It was almost like Gavin was talking to Geoff or Griffon over the phone. Talking to mogarj was simple - Gavin had nothing to worry about. He didn’t have to think about Achievement Hunter, assholes like Michael Jones, or the fact that he’d need espresso shots through an IV to get him through the next work day.

 

At around 5:30 A.M., Gavin sensed that the other man was getting a little tired, so he sent him an instant message telling him that he was going to catch an hour of sleep.

 

Half an hour later, Gavin was still awake, having brushed his teeth and undressed for bed.

 

His computer loudly exclaimed, “You’ve Got Mail!” however, so Gavin rushed to check his email before he passed out from exhaustion.

 

-

 

**December 16 th, 2009**

6:30 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : -

 

It was nice talking to you, I hope I helped a little.

 

I don’t know if this is weird, but do you want to meet?

 

-

 

He scanned over the short email quickly, but after reading the question that mogarj asked, he pause, almost panicking, standing there half naked in his boxer shorts.

 

Gavin bit his lip worriedly, closing his laptop and setting it on his table to charge before he crashed down onto his bed and pulled the covers up to his torso.

 

_He wants to meet_ , Gavin thought, distressed.

 

_Damn it._

 

-

 

 

A week and a half passed, and both Gavin and Michael found themselves caught up in the horrid bustle of Christmas in New York.

 

Gavin had always loved Christmases in New York. He saw everyone as being happy, parents ecstatically dragging their cute, bundled up kids around, scarves flailing behind them. Even the dogs were happy. Gavin was his happiest during the cold winter months, having gotten used to them in England. It hadn’t snowed yet, but Gavin was sure that it would snow on Christmas day.

 

Michael, on the other hand, despised Christmas in New York. It was a horrible, horrible time of year. Tourists were everywhere, everything was bleak and cold, and everyone was scowling and miserable. Michael was his worst at Christmas, sulking at Ray’s and Joel’s house, with only their company as well as Kathleen and Joe’s company to keep him somewhat sane.

 

But of course, one always had to leave the house at some point, for presents and the like.

 

And that’s how Gavin and Michael found themselves dodging each other for the entirety of the week leading up to Christmas.

 

Michael would walk down the street to the nearest Starbucks for a hot coffee, Gavin would see him, curse, and sneak out the back door.

 

One time, Gavin was picking out a tiny Christmas tree for his apartment. Michael had just finished paying for one. After he saw Gavin, he’d panic and quickly drag the tree up to cover his face before running swiftly down the street.

 

Once, they nearly crashed into each other at Macy’s, buying Christmas presents, but they both avoided seeing each other by running the opposite direction: Michael into the lingerie section, Gavin into power tools.

 

After apologizing to the old women they had both somehow crashed into, they wished them a Merry Christmas and ran off to different floors.

 

But the worst incident was the Zabar’s Incident of December 23rd, 2009.

 

It was an utterly terrible run in, as both Gavin and Michael had to speak to each other. They were on line, checking out whatever they had bought that day. Gavin, having seen Michael enter the line he was about to go into, squeaked and immediately ran into the next line – a line that happened to be Cash Only.

 

Gavin’s total was a sizable amount – an amount that he just didn’t carry in cash.

 

After the customers behind him in line started throwing a fit, Michael walked over calmly with a smug grin on his face.

 

“Hi there, Gav. Didn’t expect to see you here. Having a good Christmas?”

 

Gavin sighed heavily, trying to hide his flustered face from Michael’s gaze.

 

“Oh, what’s the problem here?” Michael said, false shock in his voice.

 

The cashier gave him a bored look.

 

“He doesn’t have cash,” she muttered darkly, eyebrow raised.

 

The customers behind Gavin were beginning to growl like feral dogs.

 

Michael laughed. “That’s all? Look, he has a credit card right there.”

 

An angry customer spoke up. “The line is _cash only_!”

 

Michael rolled his eyes.

 

“He’s _British_ , cut him some slack.”

 

Gavin glared at him furiously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Michael sighed, hooking an arm around Gavin’s shoulders before pulling him close and whispering into his ear, “Shut up.” Then, he turned to the cashier and slathered on the charm.

 

Two minutes later, Gavin’s items were paid for by way of his credit card, a dark glare on his face, and Michael was skipping out the door smugly.

 

-

 

**December 24 th to January 2nd, 2010**

 

Christmas Eve to New Year’s found both Gavin and Michael in good moods.

 

Gavin spent his time at Geoff and Griffon’s house with Millie on the days that the shop was closed. They gave each other truly amazing gifts, and Griffon attempted to corner Gavin again and ask him about the whole ‘being in love’ thing. Gavin sidestepped her and laughed it off before snatching up Millie and asking her to play some video games with him.

 

Michael spent an entire week alternating between Ray and Joel’s house and different Christmas parties. Jones’ Games was open for full hours every day, except for Christmas Day, when they were only open for five hours before they closed for the day. Michael’s Christmas was amazing, as he didn’t run into Gavin once.

 

But mogarj and marknutt emailed nearly five times a day.

 

Michael had since gotten the hint that marknutt didn’t want to meet, as he never responded to the first email, so he never asked again.

 

Gavin felt a little guilty about having ignored the email, but since mogarj was acting like he never asked, he wasn’t going to say anything.

 

However, he had other problems, like the fact that Achievement Hunter was steadily losing customers due to Michael Jones’ store.

 

He didn’t know who to talk to, because if he bothered Geoff or Griffon with his worries, they’d _all_ be worried about the shop closing, which would just be an added stress.

 

Griffon and Geoff were the only people Gavin truly trusted, aside from mogarj.

 

The anonymous stranger he met on the Internet.

 

But in reality, he had to talk to someone about it, and mogarj was close enough.

 

Two hours later, after thinking it over desperately, Gavin finally sent mogarj an email.

 

-

 

**December 30 th, 2009**

5:30 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : ?

 

I think I need advice.

 

-

 

**December 30 th, 2009**

6:34 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: ?

 

I’ll try to help?

 

-

 

**December 30 th, 2009**

5:30 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: RE: ?

I don’t know if you’ll actually be able to help me though.

 

It’s a _business_ problem.

 

-

 

Michael raised an eyebrow at marknutt’s last email before a grin took over his face. A business problem? Fuck, Michael had just opened a very successful video game retailer that ultimately had zero competition. marknutt was definitely asking the right question to the right person, even though he didn’t exactly know it.

 

After shooting off an email telling marknutt to simply get to the point, he learned that the other man’s business was just having financial trouble and might end up closing if he didn’t get his shit together fast.

 

Approximately one grueling hour later, Michael stepped away from his laptop, satisfied with the knowledge that he helped marknutt a little bit. He had simply told the man to fight for his business if he believed he could do it, and not to let anyone else run him over.

 

Later, his computer happily screeched, “You’ve Got Mail!” and Michael smoothly walked over to it, a plate with a salami sandwich and some pickles balanced on it in his hand. He opened the message, which happened to be another email from marknutt.

 

**December 30 th, 2009**

8:26 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : Thanks!

 

Hey, thanks for all the advice you gave me. You actually helped, I think. We might just be okay.

 

Hopefully I’ll be able to update you on what happens with my business!

 

Maybe over coffee? If you’re still up for the whole meeting thing.

 

-

 

Michael blinked at the message for about three minutes before he laughed, setting down his plate.

 

Seriously? Of course he wanted to fucking meet.

 

**December 30 th, 2009**

8:41 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: Thanks!

 

Fuck yeah, I’m up for it.

 

Choose a place.

 

-

 

 

" _Ray_ ," Michael whined pathetically, one of his hands stretched across his face. 

 

It was 8:00 P.M., one hour after he and marknutt had agreed to meet. The guy was probably in there, slightly pissed at possibly being stood up, and Michael was absolutely terrified. 

 

He had been in his fucking comfort zone for a whole goddamn year with marknutt. Everything was anonymous and shit was great! Then Michael had to go and fuck it all up by suggesting to meet that first time. Giving marknutt _ideas_.  

 

Back on the street with Ray, Michael found himself whimpering into his palm. Which apparently was something Ray couldn't deal with. 

 

Ray was standing in front of him in his dumb black board shorts and checkered shoes with a video game t-shirt that he ordered online. Even in the cold New York weather, Ray managed  to wear variants of the stupid get-up  nearly every day. He was a comforting presence, but Michael couldn't look at him, for fear he'd do something stupid and panic into Ray's dumb cottony soft t-shirt. 

 

"What the fuck is going on." Ray said, stoically. 

 

He'd never seen Michael taken apart like this by nerves, and he actually felt a little bad for him. 

 

However, the pity was quickly taken over by a twist of annoyance. 

 

"It's just a date, man."

 

Michael removed his palm from his face immediately, shaking his head incredulously.

 

"Oh, fuck no. This is in no way 'just a date'. This is the _pinnacle_ of one whole goddamn year spent online emailing an anonymous British nutcase - who's actually quite fucking adorable - and if I fuck this up, I'm not exactly sure what I'll be doing with this crap load of weird, shitty feelings."

 

Ray blinked. 

 

A smirk crept onto his face. 

 

"That's the gayest fucking thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Mogar."

 

Michael's mouth twisted into an angry frown, but then he laughed, palm covering his mouth again as he snorted softly. 

 

Ray rolled his eyes. "I'll check him out for you."

 

"Would you?" Michael asked excitedly. 

 

"Yeah man, whatever. I’m on it."

 

Ray hopped up the steps to the dimly lit coffee shop and let his eyes graze over the tables, looking for a sign. "He's got a Luigi plushie on his table, right?" 

 

"Yeah, and it's holding a British flag."

 

"A what?" Ray ripped his gaze away from the tables and stared at Michael. 

 

"He thought it was cute!"

 

Ray raised a bushy eyebrow. 

 

"It _is_ cute!" Michael defended, arms crossed over his chest childishly. 

 

Ray subsequently rolled his eyes, turning back to the shop. He saw the Luigi plushie in half a minute, a grin spread across his lips. "Dude, dude! I see the fuckin’ Luigi toy!"

 

Michael's arms dropped immediately. "With a British flag?"

 

Ray nodded vigorously. 

 

"Well?" Michael prompted to Ray's silence. "Is he cute? He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

 

Ray's face had paled slightly. "Uh, yeah man. He's gorgeous, all right."

 

Michael's face lit up. "I knew it! I fucking knew he'd be gorgeous! I mean - not that it matters, but fuck yes!" He did a double fist pump, grinning at the dark sky. 

 

"Um, Michael?" Ray began slowly. 

 

"Yeah?" he replied, obviously excited. 

 

"What I meant to say was …he's gorgeous, but he's also Gavin Free."

 

"Ga–?" Michael's face dropped instantaneously. "Oh."

 

Ray hopped down the stairs, making his way back to Michael, whose smile had dropped off his face.

 

“You okay, man?” Ray asked, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

 

Michael was staring at the bench in front of him blankly. After a beat of silence, he looked up and shrugged. “I mean …yeah. Are you sure?” He gave Ray a hopeful glance before swiftly moving off to the side and running up the stairs to the coffee shop to see for himself.

 

Ray bit his lip. “Yeah, dude. Luigi plushie, British flag, plus that huge fuckin’ nose – it’s Gavin Free.”

 

Michael had his nose inches away from the glass, his eyes flickering around the room before landing first on the flag, then the toy. He dragged his gaze up expectantly…

 

…and there he was. marknutt. Gavin Free.

 

He looked a little sad. He was fidgeting with the Luigi toy, adjusting the flag ever so often, alternating between looking at the door hopefully and embarrassedly looking back down at his hands when someone who was clearly not the one he was looking for walked inside.

 

Michael’s stomach twisted slightly.

 

He moved out of the way before Gavin could spot him, and he walked back down the stairs to meet Ray, who had been watching him.

 

“What’re you gonna do?” he asked, worriedly trying to catch Michael’s gaze.

 

Michael shrugged, finally dragging his eyes up to Ray’s.

  
“I can’t go in there, man. He hates me. I’d probably ruin his week.”

 

“Just his week?” Ray asked, attempting to coax a smile onto Michael’s face.

 

Michael half-heartedly punched Ray in the shoulder. They stood around in silence for a little while before Ray sighed, patting Michael’s back firmly.

  
“I gotta head home. Joel’s alone with the kids, and you know how nights like those end.”

  
Michael smiled passively, nodding in understanding.

  
“Yeah, I get it. Go home, dude.”

 

Ray stepped back, letting his hand fall back to his side. “You’ll be okay, right?”

 

Michael rolled his eyes immediately. “I’m not _that_ gay, asshole. I’ll be fine.”

 

Ray grinned. “Good luck, I guess? Call me tomorrow.”

 

Michael waved him off, nodding again. Ray sighed and turned, heading off in the direction of the Subway, still a little worried about his friend.

 

After Ray left, Michael flopped down onto the bench, unsure of what to do.

 

-

 

He was an hour and twenty minutes late. 

 

Gavin played with his hands uncomfortably, his cappuccino forgotten and pushed off to the side. He hadn't thought of bringing a book or anything, instead believing that he'd be having a real conversation with the guy he'd been talking to for the past year. 

 

The coffee shop was dim, with soft yellow light oozing out from antique lamps in the corners of the room. It was cozy and sweet, somewhere Gavin went after a day of insane video game related brain work. 

 

He bit his lip, reaching out to adjust Luigi and the tiny British flag in his hand that usually made Gavin grin at the sight of it. However, he wasn't grinning this time, and every time the door to the coffee shop opened with a loud jingle, his head shot up embarrassingly fast. 

 

But he'd always relax back into his chair halfheartedly when a group of teenage girls or a drag queen walked through the door. 

 

Did he actually get stood up?

 

Gavin reluctantly checked the time on his wristwatch again. An hour and twenty-four minutes. 

 

Why was he still here?

 

Gavin sighed disappointedly, tugging at his short tufts of hair. He supposed he'd go home and write a short email to mogarj asking where he was tonight. 

 

The coffee shop door swung open again. Gavin's gaze quickly flew back to the door frame, eyebrows raised. 

 

Oh, bugger. 

 

A man with fluffy, slightly ginger, curly hair walked into the coffee shop. He was wearing a sleek black coat with a long scarf over what was most likely a suit. He had his eyes fixed on the woman at the register, but it looked like he was about to ask for a table.

 

That man? Bloody Michael Jones. 

 

Gavin immediately shifted his gaze back down to his lap, panicking as he tried to busy himself. He grabbed Luigi off the table and pulled the toy into his lap as Michael, across the room, noticed him and raised an eyebrow before waving off the woman who had been holding out a menu to him and making his way to Gavin’s table.

 

Gavin silently chanted ‘shit’ in his head as Michael walked up to his table with a huge grin on his face. He pulled out the chair across from Gavin and sat down immediately, still smiling.

“Hey there,” Michael said, leaning into the table with his elbows casually resting on the face of it. “What are you doing here?”

 

Gavin gave Michael his worst glare, gripping Luigi desperately in his hands. “Go sit somewhere else.”

 

Michael continued to smile complacently, much to the dismay of Gavin. “No, really. Why are you here?”

 

Gavin refused to open his mouth. Instead, as the door to the coffee shop opened, he sat up straight in his seat, looking at the new patron before slumping over again at the sight of another teenage girl coming into the shop.

 

Infuriatingly, Michael followed his gaze and smirked, speaking again. “Oh, is this a date? Are you waiting here for a _date_?”

 

Gavin sighed heavily, finally meeting Michael’s eyes. “He’s an hour and a half late.”

 

Michael’s smirk slid off his face, although Gavin didn’t really know why. He’d been sure that the piece of information would’ve driven Michael off into obnoxious laughter.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he said instead, getting cut off from saying any more when a waiter made his way over and asked Michael if he wanted a coffee.

 

Gavin quickly opened his mouth. “Actually, he’s just leaving.”

 

Michael shook his head, instead smiling happily at the waiter. “I’ll have an espresso, thanks.”

 

Gavin bit his lip at Michael’s happy smile, unconsciously hugging Luigi to his chest. If he was honest with himself, he just really wanted to be alone now. “Please leave, Michael. Please.”

 

Michael stared at him for a moment before nodding, shrugging, and moving to get up.

 

Gavin smiled a little at him, about to thank him when Michael simply shifted over and sat at the table behind Gavin’s, choosing the chair that made them back-to-back.

 

Gavin’s smile flew off his face and he groaned lightly.

 

“Really, it’s great seeing you again,” Michael commented as his espresso was delivered at his table.

 

Gavin scowled, suddenly angry. “Oh, really? Well, it’s not as great for me, Mister Jones. You _lied_ to me!”

 

Michael rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat until he was only halfway turned away from Gavin. “I didn’t lie to you!”

 

“Yes you did. You most certainly lied to me.” Gavin spat out.

 

“I never lied to you.”

 

“Yes, you did!”

 

“I did _not_.”

 

“Yeah, no, you did.”

 

“No–”

 

Gavin spun around quickly before angrily opening his mouth to speak again. “Yes, you _did_! Indiana Jones! That stupid goldfish and those adorable kids who _spelled your name_ _out_.”

 

“But I didn’t lie about it!”

 

“Yes, you–!”

 

Michael quickly got up and sat in the seat opposite Gavin at his table again. Gavin pulled himself together and turned to face Michael, who was leaning into the table again. “Look. I told you the kids weren’t mine. Joe and Kathleen are the children of my two friends, Ray Narvaez Jr. and Joel Heyman. Look them up in the goddamn Yellow Pages, do a background check, _whatever_ , but I didn’t lie about that. And I didn’t lie about who I am, either. I’m Michael. Yes, my last name is Jones, but I never gave you an alternate name or whatever the fuck when I was at your shop.”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes, tossing Luigi and the flag onto the table angrily. He had just resorted to keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the time that Michael was there when the door swung open and he raised his gaze to the man walking in. However, the new customer was most likely not mogarj, as it was actually a young man in a King Arthur costume. And mogarj had never mentioned anything about that.

 

When Gavin turned back to his table, Michael said sarcastically, “I’m guessing that he’s not who you’re looking for.”

 

A pause.

 

Gavin coughed out a quiet laugh.

 

Michael raised his eyebrows before letting a tiny smile grace his features.

 

Gavin rolled his eyes, this time a little friendlier. “ _No_ , that’s not him. He didn’t mention anything about roleplaying.”

 

Michael snorted, relaxing in his seat, and Gavin finally gave him that lovely smile that Michael got to see the day he stepped into Achievement Hunter.

 

“A bit of a shame, isn’t it?” Michael said, his voice tinged slightly with faked sadness.

 

Gavin raised an eyebrow, still smiling slightly. “What is?”

 

Michael sighed heavily. “Could’ve had some fun with his sword.”

 

Two seconds later, Gavin’s eyes were wide as he collapsed into high pitched giggles at Michael’s dumb joke. Soon after, Michael was laughing too, and after they settled down, Gavin managed to open up enough to call Michael an idiot.

 

Then their night began.

 

-

 

 

**January 12 th, 2010**

2:06 A.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : -

 

Hey.

Why weren't you here tonight?

 

I had an uncomfortable run-in with someone I didn't particularly want to meet. 

 

The night actually didn’t end so badly, but you didn’t turn up at all?

 

I think I was probably there for two more hours after this other guy turned up.

 

Anyway, email me back, I’m kind of worried about you.

 

 

-

 

 

Michael was about to tear his fucking hair out. 

 

His fingers were currently hovering over his laptop's keyboard menacingly, eyes squinted in frustration. 

 

 

_Shift-I. Space bar_. 

 

Michael glared at the blinking cursor that was prompting him to type. 

 

He had written one letter after fifteen minutes of intense staring. 

 

Fuck. 

 

_w, a, s_ came in succession. 

 

_I was._

 

I was what?

 

Michael had no excuse. He was living a fucking double life. He was like Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Only Ray and Joel knew what had happened last night. 

 

...did that make them Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda?

 

An image of Ray and Joel in tight dresses and corny witch hats entered Michael's mind. He smirked. Then he remembered what he was supposed to be doing and growled quietly. Bowser paid him no mind, trotting across the living room and depositing his furry body at Michael's feet. 

 

_I was_

 

_detained_ , Michael added. 

 

But that sounded like he had been prosecuted and was currently in prison, so he backspaced immediately. 

 

_trapped_. 

 

Michael squinted again, then shrugged, deciding it wasn’t as terrible as it could be, setting his fingers to the keys again. 

 

_Yes, trapped! In an elevator. With three dogs and an old woman_. 

 

Michael reread his opener and grinned, feeling accomplished. 

 

Then immediately rolled his eyes and backspaced until the entire dumb thing was gone. 

 

_I was_

 

He began again.

 

_in a meeting. It had already lasted three hours by six o'clock, and it just kept going. On and on. It would never end._

 

Michael nodded, weighing how it sounded in his head before continuing. It wasn't too bad. 

 

_By the time it ended, it was one in the morning and I immediately passed out on a pile of office work. I have post-it note marks on my cheek!_

 

Michael paused, sighing and rereading carefully. 

 

A minute later, he shook his head and deleted it all again. 

 

He couldn't bring himself to lie to Gavin again. 

 

_I can't tell you where I was last night._

_But I really wanted to be there, with you._

_It was my idea to meet up at first, and it was a dick move not to come._

_To be honest, I was kind of scared._

_I hope you can forgive me._

 

He sent the email. 

 

The next morning, at six on the dot, there was an email waiting in his inbox. 

 

**January 12th, 2009**

12:43 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : water balloons

 

I have a mate back in England. We'll call him "The Man". The Man and I used to do dumb things like fill water balloons up and then stomp on them until they burst everywhere. Only, we'd film it happening in slow motion. 

 

Then one day we got a huge, six foot water balloon, and we jumped on it until it burst from the pressure. There was a small lake in our garden. I think I still have the file on my computer. 

 

We scared the cat away for a day and a half. 

 

-

 

Michael laughed at the appropriate points of Gavin’s email. Just like always. Just like nothing had changed. He knew he was forgiven, but Gavin wouldn't want to meet up again with mogarj anytime soon. 

 

**-**

 

In Spring 2010, Gavin Free closed Achievement Hunter.

 

Geoff and Griffon easily found new jobs. Griffon decided to take up a new form of woodcutting art that used chainsaws to sculpt, and Geoff decided to start a video game website that surprisingly took off and provided a source of income.

 

The Ramseys were fine.

 

Gavin was not.

 

In April, a little while after Gavin flipped the sign on the door to Achievement Hunter so that it read ‘Closed’ for the last time, he visited Jones’ Games.

  
Just out of curiosity.

 

Seeing all of the kids running around, their parents buying their first consoles, made Gavin indescribably happy. He honestly missed seeing that in his store, but of course, there was nothing he could do.

 

He walked around on the third floor of Jones’ Games for a while, testing out all the different consoles on display, and playing different games for the better part of an hour.

 

After that, he went to the first floor and sat at yet another gaming center. As he was idly playing Banjo Kazooie, a mother walked up to an employee, asking for a certain game that she couldn’t find.

 

The employee, a little flustered, had no idea of what she was talking about.

 

The game, in fact, was Need For Speed: Underground, but all the mother knew about the game were a couple of choice details that the employee couldn’t place.

 

As soon as the employee asked, “Do you know what console it’s for?” Gavin stood up and said sternly, “It’s for the Xbox. Need For Speed: Underground. I’m pretty sure it was released in 2004.”

 

The employee nodded quickly and ran off to the stock room to find it. Gavin rolled his eyes and sat back down at Banjo Kazooie. The mother smiled at him, thanking him quietly.

 

Of course, Gavin said that it was nothing, and he went back to staring blankly at Banjo running around on the screen.

 

What he didn’t know was that Michael had seen the entire exchange from a couple feet away from him. He bit his lip, making a note to further educate the dumb fuck employee, and turned to walk away from Gavin.

 

-

 

“One of Joel’s coworkers, Ryan, is friends with one of Gavin Free’s old coworkers,” Ray said to Michael one afternoon at lunch.

 

Michael raised his eyebrow. He had just spoken to Gavin (technically marknutt) earlier that day. “Okay. You’re telling me this because…”

 

Ray shrugged. “I don’t really know why it matters, but Joel told me yesterday that Gavin was really sick.”

 

Michael’s eyebrows flew up. “Sick? As in …a harmless little cold kind of sick or _bad_ kind of sick?”

 

Ray shook his head. “I have no idea.”

 

“What the fuck, Ray?” Michael hissed, leaning forward so that the people around them wouldn’t hear his anger. “What do you mean you have no fucking idea?”

 

“I mean that I don’t know!” Ray exclaimed, leaning backwards, away from Michael.

 

“Goddamnit, give me his address.” Michael spat out.

 

“I don’t know where he lives!”

 

Michael stood up immediately, pushing a hand through his hair. “Find out, asshole!”

 

-

 

Later, after Michael had calmed down significantly, he found himself outside of Gavin’s apartment building, ringing the doorbell to his apartment. He still wasn’t sure if Gavin was hospital type sick, or if he just had a cold, but Ray had called him earlier with Gavin’s address and apartment number. Michael had apologized to Ray for freaking out, and Ray had called him an idiot and said it was fine.

 

However, Michael was still incredibly worried. He wasn’t thinking about Gavin’s reaction to Michael Jones randomly popping up at his apartment building to check up on him and see if he was okay. Instead, with his thumb pressed firmly against the buzzer to Gavin’s door, roses in his arms as well as his copy of Banjo Kazooie in his suit jacket, he was close to beginning to pray that Gavin was alright.

 

Because Michael hadn’t exactly lost whatever feelings or … _whatever_ he had for Gavin just because he knew that marknutt was Gavin Free. If anything, they were stronger.

 

Fuck, Michael really needed to tone down the gay.

 

Finally, a weak voice came across. “Hello?”

 

Michael jumped, immediately taking his thumb off the buzzer. “Gavin? It’s Michael. Let me in.”

 

Gavin’s voice, shocked, stuttered before he managed to say, “What? Michael _Jones_? What are you doing here?”

 

Michael shook his head impatiently as a woman with red hair came up behind him on the steps to open the main door to the building. “I’m here to see you, you dumbass. Let me in!”

 

“What.”

 

The woman with the red hair opened the door, holding the door open for Michael expectantly with a tiny smirk on her face. Michael slipped in and murmured a thanks before tearing up the stairs to the fifth floor.

 

Gavin, still on the speakers, was muttering: “Uh, um, don’t come up, it’s messy and I’m sick and there are tissues _everywhere_ , like actually everywhere, wow – um, how did you get my address? Wait why are you here, I don’t understand, _what is happening_.”

 

A beat.

 

“Hello?”

 

Rapid knocks at his door nearly had Gavin on the floor in shock. He rushed up to it, leaning into the peephole with an incredulous look on his face. And of course, there was Michael Jones, still banging at his damn door.

 

Gavin took a quick step back before looking down at himself. He was in his boxer shorts. He scanned his living room, panicking a little. “Uh – one minute!” The knocking at his door subsided, and he quickly found an old bathrobe that he tied around his waist in order to secure some semblance of modesty. After that, he slowly opened the door. Michael was still there.

 

Holding flowers.

 

What.

 

Michael pushed inside, holding the bouquet of roses out to Gavin nervously.

  
“Um, hi. Those are for you.”

 

Gavin took the flowers, but not without staring at Michael like he had gone mental.

 

Michael simply smiled.

 

“I heard from, uh, Ray, who heard from your old employee that you were sick. I didn’t know if it was serious or…” He trailed off, shrugging slightly. “I was worried.”

 

Gavin blinked, about to smile, before he held up a finger and promptly sneezed, propelling Michael back an inch.

 

“Are you fucking allergic to flowers?” Michael whined out, obviously upset.

 

Gavin waved an arm out frantically, sneezing again, before moving off to the side and grabbing a box of Kleenex. “No!” he got out, nose stuffed, making his voice sound weird. “I’m _sick_. I love flowers.” He flashed Michael a quick smile before ruining the moment and blowing his nose into a tissue. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Michael muttered. “Um, sit down; I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

 

“Okay!” Gavin chirped happily, clutching the flowers to his chest as he plopped down into a nearby seat, sinking down into its softness.

 

Michael went into the kitchen and immediately got to brewing coffee for Gavin, boiling some water and grinding up some coffee beans before calling out to the other man, who was poking at the roses in his arms and smiling childishly. “Milk and sugar?”

 

Gavin straightened up slightly before responding, “Just one sugar!”

 

Michael made his coffee appropriately and carried it in a mug to Gavin, who was sprawled out on his chair. Michael suppressed a smile and exchanged Gavin’s flowers for the mug of coffee, saying that he’d put them in some water.

 

A couple of moments later, Gavin whirled around in his seat to look at Michael, who was setting up a vase to put the roses in. “Why are you here, again?”

 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “I just …wanted to be your friend, I guess.”

 

Gavin absorbed that before shrugging and finishing off his coffee. “My head’s confused, Michael.”

 

Michael’s lips quirked up into a smile, not offended in the slightest that Gavin had blatantly ignored his comment about being his friend. “Wanna get into bed?”

 

Gavin nodded vigorously, tossing a Kleenex aimlessly behind him, dragging himself out of the chair and into his bedroom. Michael followed him, partly to make sure that Gavin didn’t trip and break a hip on any object in his room.

 

After Gavin threw himself onto his bed face down, Michael sidled up to him and rolled him over, trying not to laugh. “You okay, Gav?” He adjusted Gavin’s pillows until the other man happily nestled himself comfortably on top of them, then moved to pull the covers over him.

 

He noted that Gavin was quite tiny.

 

“’m good, Michael.”

 

“Dude, how could you be sleepy? You just drank a mug of black coffee.” Michael sat lightly on the foot of the bed, watching Gavin’s dumb face look around the room curiously. The guy was either hopped up on cough medicine or just really, _really_ out of it.

 

“I’m British,” Gavin said defensively, as if that made any sense whatsoever.

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

Gavin managed to focus completely on Michael’s face. His eyes were bright and his mouth was doing a happy smiley thing.

 

“What happened with the guy at the coffee shop?” the mouth asked.

 

Gavin quirked an eyebrow slightly. Then, realization took over his face, and he sharply ‘shushed’ Michael before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone, Michael Jones.”

 

Michael nodded. Gavin saw his nod as a solemn one and he chose to continue.

  
“I don’t actually know him,” Gavin hissed out, then bit his lip lightly, fearing that Michael would judge him.

 

Instead, Michael laughed. “You mean you only know him from the Internet?”

 

Gavin slapped his sheets excitedly. “Yeah! Like when my computer tells me that I have mail!” He promptly imitated the voice. “You’ve Got Mail! You know it?”

 

Michael nodded, lips twisting into something unrecognizable. “Yeah, I know it.”

 

“You’ve Got Mail is great, I love it! It’s so fun, and you can talk, but the other person doesn’t know who you are! And I’ve been talking to this guy whose name is like _mo-gahr_ , which is really weird but I like it, because he’s really nice to me. Even though he stood me up. Which wasn’t very nice. But he said he was scared and I understand that because I was scared too, and – hey.” After going on his long tangent, Gavin paused, taking Michael in. “You were there, at the coffee shop, you know? That’s so –”

 

Michael quickly leaned forward, placing a finger on Gavin’s lips to keep him from saying any more. “Hey. Shh.”

 

Gavin blinked rapidly, trying to look between Michael’s finger and his face. “Mm?”

 

“Just be quiet, alright? I’m sorry I asked.” Michael smiled softly, his face inches from Gavin’s, finger still resting lightly on his lip.

  
Gavin managed to nod slowly, moving his hand up to grab at Michael’s wrist and pull his hand away from his lips. “I’m going to sleep now, Michael.”

 

“Alright, Gavin.” Gavin’s hand was gripping at his wrist gently. “You gonna let me go?”

 

Gavin nodded. “Yeah.”

 

His hand slipped away from Michael’s, and he pulled his covers up to his nose, attempting to peek surreptitiously at Michael.

 

Michael pushed himself off Gavin’s bed with an amused look on his face and walked smoothly out of the bedroom door, pulling it closed behind him. Gavin watched him go, still hiding under the covers.

 

A few hours later, at around 6 P.M., Gavin woke up and threw the covers off of his body as soon as he woke up, still a little confused. He was pretty sure that Michael Jones had visited him earlier in the day, but he didn’t remember why.

 

The fact that he had taken a load of Nyquil before Michael showed up didn’t help matters in the slightest.

 

Gavin managed to get out of bed, and he opened his bedroom door to walk out into the living area.

 

On his dining room table, next to twelve red roses sitting brightly in a glass vase and an empty mug of what was most likely coffee, was a copy of Banjo Kazooie for the Xbox with a note lying on top of it. Gavin picked up the game and the note, instantly smiling, before he opened the note and read:

 

_Hey, you._

_You were pretty out of it earlier._

_Sorry for showing up out of the blue like that, but I just wanted to make sure that you were okay._

_I always play Banjo when I’m sick. I feel like it helps with the healing process._

_By the way, it’s my copy, so take care of it._

_M_

-

 

 

**May 3 rd, 2013**

6:34 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : A Question

 

I still think we should meet.

 

Do you want to?

 

-

 

**May 3 rd, 2013**

7:02 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : An Answer

 

Of course. I’d love to.

 

Not this month, though, I’m pretty busy.

 

-

 

**May 3 rd, 2013**

7:21 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: An Answer

 

Alright, let me know.

 

-

 

“So, what’s up with you and your creepy double life?” Ray asked quietly one evening at dinner with Joel and the kids. “You know, you leading Gavin Free around as two different people.”

 

Michael rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “It’s not a double life, Ray.”

 

Ray gave him an expectant look, waiting for him to continue. Michael simply shrugged.

  
“I have an elaborate plan.”

 

Ray nearly choked on his asparagus. Joel snickered softly, shaking his head.

 

“An ‘elaborate plan’?” Ray repeated, incredulous. “With you, it’d be more like an elaborate _plot_.”

 

Michael shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it, really.”

 

Joel picked up his plate and gestured at Joe and Kathleen to do the same. “We’ll wash up. You two have your little talk.” He flashed a grin at Ray, who blushed and leaned up for Joel to give him a tiny peck.

 

Michael smiled a little. After Joe and Kathleen followed their dad with their plates into the kitchen, Michael spoke up. “I think I want what you and Joel have.”

 

Ray rolled his eyes, stabbing his last piece of asparagus. “Well, you’re not gonna get it with whatever you’re planning.”

 

“Oh really?” Michael questioned smugly, pointing his fork in Ray’s direction casually before continuing. “I have the best plan _ever_.”

 

“That’s probably what Stalin said,” Ray commented dryly.

 

“Shut up,” Michael shot back.

 

Ray sighed, setting his fork down before meeting Michael’s eyes. “Tell me the plan.”

 

-

 

“Oh, hey – that’s actually kind of good.”

 

“ _Right?!_ ”

 

-

 

**May 13 th, 2010**

 

On Saturday, May 13th, 2010, Gavin Free found himself in a Starbucks in Lower Manhattan. He wasn’t paying attention to anything around him, ears plugged up with his earbuds, John Farnham’s ‘You’re The Voice’ playing loudly into his ears. He had a tiny notebook in front of him, a few choice website details planned out in succession on the page.

 

He crossed out a few unnecessary words and reached out to make a grab for his black, one sugar coffee, when someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He pulled out an earbud from his right ear, turning to face the person behind him, only to unconsciously react with both eyebrows flying up his face instantly at the sight of Michael Jones with a pleasant smile on his face.

 

“Hi,” Gavin muttered uncertainly, getting over his shock quickly and gesturing to the seat next to him. “What are you doing here? Have a seat.” Gavin flashed him a quick smile, pulling his other earbud out and pausing the music.

 

Michael shrugged, moving to sit in the chair that Gavin gestured to. “I was in the neighborhood.”

 

“That’s usually the case with you, isn’t it?” Gavin said slowly, tapping his pen lightly against the table.

 

Michael was still smiling. “I guess so.” His tiny smile morphed into a little smirk, and he pointed to Gavin’s little notebook. “What’s that? Web design?”

 

Gavin’s eyes moved down to his notebook, and he nodded quickly. “Yeah, just something Geoff asked me to do. You know he’s running his own website now, right?”

 

Michael gave him a little nod, and Gavin continued. “He asked me to partner up with him for the site, seeing as I’m not really doing much at the moment.” Michael bit his lip, about to say something – most likely apologize for technically being the one responsible for closing down Gavin’s store. “Shut it, Michael.” Gavin rolled his eyes, reaching out to close his notebook casually, sliding his pen to lock onto the cover of it so he didn’t accidentally misplace it. “Those were just slogans and ways to set up the site, because Geoff’s utterly crap at web design.”

 

Michael laughed huffily, pulling at his sleeves. “I’m glad you’re getting everything together again.”

 

Gavin, who had been moving to slide his notebook into his bag, paused before pushing it all the way inside and zipping his bag up. “I always had everything together.”

 

There was a short few minutes of awkward silence as Michael continued to pull at his sleeves and Gavin leaned back up from his bag to take tiny sips from his coffee.

 

“Um,” Michael began stiffly, trying to catch Gavin’s attention again. “Are you busy, say, for the next few hours?”

 

Gavin met Michael’s slightly shy gaze, shrugging lightly. “Actually, no. Why?”

 

At that, Michael managed a goofy smile, leaning an inch or two forward confidently, ending up a bit closer to the other man. “We could get lunch?”

 

Gavin opened his mouth to reply before he quickly closed it again. He realized that Michael was making an effort to talk to him, but he didn’t understand why. Gavin ended up running his gaze over Michael’s face, past the unruly reddish-brown hair, down to his smiling mouth, and pausing for a few beats on his lips.

 

Quickly, he spat out an “I’m up for it!” before rapidly moving in jerky movements to pick up his messenger bag and sling it over his shoulders. After his bag was secure, he grabbed his near empty coffee cup and tossed it into a nearby trash bin before calming down and facing Michael once more.

 

Michael grinned happily, stepping back a bit and gesturing toward the exit.

 

-

 

**May 18 th, 2010**

 

A couple of days later, Michael and Gavin bumped into each other again. This time, it was a couple of blocks away from the old Achievement Hunter location and about two blocks away from Jones’ Games.

 

After a bit of awkward small talk, with Michael making several inappropriate comments about Gavin’s choice of t-shirt that day – his custom made ‘Touch My Awesome Button’ t-shirt, they parted ways, only to stumble upon each other again at lunch time at a local sandwich shop.

 

Gavin’s eyes lit up the moment he saw Michael again, and he made his way over to the other man, saying a bright ‘hello’ to him as soon as he was about a foot away.

 

Michael looked back at him immediately, waving at Gavin before moving to the side.

 

“We just keep bumping into each other,” Michael commented, digging into his pocket for his wallet.

 

Gavin nodded solemnly, his elbows bumping into Michael’s side lightly as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “I noticed - are you _stalking_ me, Michael Jones?”

 

Michael’s eyes grew wide and he immediately stilled. “No, of course not!”

 

Gavin snorted, rolling his eyes. “It was a joke. Don’t be so bloody uptight.”

 

Michael winced, finally pulling his wallet out of his pocket. “I – sorry.”

 

Gavin rocked on his heels, ignoring the awkward silence that had immediately erupted between them.

 

“Hey, Gavin. I’ll buy you lunch.”

 

Michael smiled hesitantly, reaching out and grabbing Gavin’s forearm lightly, pulling him forward a bit so that they could both see the sandwich menu.

Gavin moved with him easily, although he firmly protested against Michael paying for his lunch.

 

Michael won in the end, using strange Jersey logic to get Gavin to see his way, his hand still gently gripping Gavin’s wrist. He only let go when he had to open his wallet to pay for their meals.

  
He bought a ham and swiss panini for himself as well as a turkey and brie sandwich for Gavin, who had attempted to pick the cheapest thing on the menu without Michael noticing.

 

They sat together at a table in the back of the shop, knees touching as they spoke about nonsensical subjects that were safe and impossible to get worked up over. They talked about their favorite video games. They talked about their favorite characters in their favorite movies. Favorite color, actor, actress, who they’d bang from the cast of that new romcom that they totally didn’t see. When their birthdays were, and if they liked pigeons or not (resounding ‘no’ from both parties).  In the span of an hour and a half, Michael and Gavin suddenly knew more useless facts about each other than they would ever cared to know about someone they simply kept bumping into.

 

When Gavin finally had to leave to go home, the two men had the dumbest, widest grins on their faces. Michael cheekily scrawled his phone number down messily on Gavin’s arm using a Sharpie he borrowed from the cashier. Gavin retaliated by drawing a huge, messy penis on Michael’s palm, who sat there complacently and happily announced that he had a ‘dick hand’ when Gavin was done.

 

Giggling, the two men made casual, tentative plans for the next week. Gavin went home with a bunch of numbers on his arm, and Michael went to his CEO’s office with a giant dick on the palm of his hand.

 

-

 

At the end of the day, Michael received a dorky, pointless phone call:

_Hi, Michael. It’s Gavin. This is my number. Call me back. Bye, dickie bitch._

-

 

**May 20 th, 2010**

 

“So, this guy,” Michael began from across the table. “The guy you’re e-mailing – cybering – _whatever_ , he stood you up?”

 

Gavin nodded sheepishly, lifting a hand to grab his iced tea. “Yeah, basically.”

 

“What a dick.” Michael said bitterly, leaning back sharply until his back was against his chair.

 

Gavin shook his head vigorously, swallowing down his sip of iced tea before attempting to defend mogarj. “No, no, he’s not a _dick_ , he was just busy. Or scared.” He paused. “Or …both?”

 

Michael laughed quietly, shaking his head.”Okay, I get it. You’re defending the guy you’re in love with, whatever.”

 

Gavin’s mouth opened slightly, but all that came out was a strangled noise of confusion.

 

Michael rolled his eyes at that. “Doesn’t change the fact that he was kind of a dick by leaving you at that coffee shop for an hour and a half. Well, before I popped up and brightened up your night,” Michael stated smugly, one eyebrow quirked.

 

Gavin made a noise reminiscent of “pfft.”

 

“Yeah, _okay_.” he muttered sarcastically.

 

They sat in a comfortable silence for half a minute before Michael suddenly straightened and slapped the table in between them violently, shaking Gavin’s iced tea and making the other man jump, nearly banging his knees against the underside of the table.

“I bet he’s got kids.”

 

Gavin blinked quickly, reaching out and steadying his iced tea. “What?”

 

“The You’ve Got Mail guy! He probably has children!” Michael said excitedly, leaning forward into the table, closer to Gavin.

 

“Why on earth would you think that, Michael?” Gavin muttered, pulling his glass closer to take a sip.

 

Michael rolled his eyes before gesturing wildly at Gavin. “Dude – it makes sense! He never showed up that night because his babysitter cancelled and he had to stay home!”

 

Gavin scoffed around his straw. After placing the drink safely back down onto the table, he sighed heavily. “Then why didn’t he just say that in his e-mail?”

 

Michael paused before his eyes went wide and he leaned forward even more. “He probably thinks you don’t like kids.”

 

Gavin smirked. “That’s complete bollocks. You’re utterly insane.”

 

Michael reached out and flicked Gavin’s shoulder. “Ask him! If I’m wrong, I’ll buy you a coffee before lunch tomorrow.”

 

Gavin shrugged. “Fine, you bloody moron. I’ll call you tonight.”

 

-

 

**May 20 th, 2010**

4:12 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : Another Question

 

This is a really dumb question.

 

But I’ll ask it anyway.

 

Do you...

 

 ...have kids?

 

-

 

**May 20 th, 2010**

4:52 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : Another Answer

 

What? What kind of question is _that_?

 

I mean, I’ve known you for a year, don’t you think we’d have touched upon that subject already?

 

No, I don’t have _kids_.

Wait – let me guess.

 

One of your friends made up an alibi for me because I wasn’t there that night at the coffee shop. Right?

 

Come on.

 

I’ve got my hands full with the dog.

 

-

 

**May 21 st, 2010**

 

“Coffee, please!” Gavin chirped happily as soon as he walked up to the street corner where he was meeting Michael that day.

 

Michael scoffed, instantly opening his arms a little for Gavin to walk into. Gavin immediately moved into Michael’s arms, his own hugging Michael’s waist, and Michael grinned to himself as he folded his arms around the tinier man. “You’re just saying that so I’ll buy you coffee. There’s no way I was wrong about the kids,” he muttered into Gavin’s ear.

 

Gavin instantly pulled back with a triumphant smile, his arms still locked around Michael’s waist as he grinned slyly. “ _Actually_ , he doesn’t have kids. He just has a dog. You were wrong!”

 

Michael shrugged, letting his thumbs stroke slightly at the small of Gavin’s back as he spoke. “Then it’s a self image issue.”

 

Gavin huffed, untangling his limbs from Michael and beginning to move into the Starbucks on the corner. “You just keep making excuses for him.”

 

Michael laughed quietly, trailing after Gavin. “Come _on,_ the guy wasn’t just ‘scared’ that night, or whatever he said to you in that email, he’s hiding something!” Michael paused before declaring loudly: “I swear to you, he’s got two fuckin’ dicks.”

 

Gavin shot him a glare as a couple of patrons whirled around to look at the source of the noise. “When you said self image issue, I was thinking of various warts or crooked teeth. Maybe a lazy eye that is only corrected by Harry Potter-type glasses.”

 

“You gotta think _outside_ the box, Gavvy.”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and pulled Michael to the back of the line, changing the subject and telling him he wanted a _venti_ triple shot espresso with one sugar. Michael scoffed and elbowed Gavin in the side. He yelped, and Michael triumphantly ordered his own regular coffee order as well as Gavin’s over the top espresso.

 

“He really could have two dicks, though. That’s totally a thing.”

 

-

 

 

**June 2 nd, 2010**

 

Fourteen lunch dates later, after a long day of picking up okra, various types of lettuce, and a cactus from a farmer’s market in Union Square, Gavin’s hands were full. He and Michael – who had volunteered to carry the cactus – had finally collapsed onto a nearby bench, their feet hurting a little bit from so much running around the stalls (translated as goofing around and getting all the free samples).

 

Michael leaned into Gavin, eyeing his vegetables. “Trying to get healthier?” Michael asked, his voice tinged with sarcasm. He was well aware that the Brit’s main source of food happened to be chips and sandwiches from a deli on his block. But if Michael were honest with himself, Gavin had told mogarj that, not Michael. He bit his lip nervously before casting a quick glance toward Gavin’s smiling face.

 

“Suck my knob,” Gavin muttered, pulling his okra and lettuce closer to his chest.

 

Michael rolled his eyes, patting a little baggie of romaine lettuce. “Gonna munch on this while you play some Mario?”

 

“Maybe.” Gavin grinned happily at Michael, his eyes scrunching up a little.

 

Michael thought that smiles like that should be illegal.

 

He pulled his hand back quickly, moving his gaze toward the spiky plant in his hand, deciding that if he didn’t ask now, he never would. “Hey, are you busy this weekend?”

 

Gavin shifted around a bit before shaking his head. “Nah. It’s looking like quality plant time for me.”

 

Michael nodded, admiring the cactus. “Care to move that back a bit for me? We could meet in Riverside Park.”

 

Gavin smiled again, attempting not to burst into awkward laughter. “I’m up for it.” 

 

Michael finally looked up, eyes lingering on Gavin’s smile. “Cool. See you then?” He blinked before carefully balancing the cactus in Gavin’s arms.”

 

“See you then!” Gavin said before standing up cautiously, hugging the various plants to his body.

 

Michael stood as well, a hand immediately making its way into his pocket, the other waving clumsily. “Bye, Gav.”

 

“Cheers, Michael,” Gavin said with a bright grin.

 

 

-

 

**June 2 nd, 2010**

4:27 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** :  Meeting?

 

I’m free Saturday.

 

If you’re still up for it, we could meet?

 

 

-

 

**June 2 nd, 2010**

6:01 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** : RE: Meeting?

 

Definitely up for it. When and where?

 

-

 

**June 2 nd, 2010**

6:23 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** :  RE: RE: Meeting?

 

Riverside Park. In the garden on 91st Street? 5:00 P.M. I’ll bring Bowser so you can recognize me amongst the slew of children and flowers.

 

-

 

**June 2 nd, 2010**

6:58 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : marknutt! **SUBJECT LINE** :  RE: RE: RE: Meeting?

 

I can’t wait!

 

-

 

**June 4 th, 2010**

 

“You’re meeting him _today_?” Michael exclaimed, eyes widening slightly. His hands, swaying at his sides, had accidentally brushed against Gavin’s hands countless times as he walked the few short blocks from the park to Gavin’s apartment. Gavin hadn’t said anything about it. Neither had Michael. But his heart happened to be racing a mile a minute.

 

“Yeah, today,” Gavin trailed off, his gaze switching from his shoes to the sidewalk ahead of them to his hands.

 

Michael nodded, holding himself back from leaning just a little bit closer. “You nervous?”

 

Gavin shrugged before he huffed out a little noise of amusement, finally dragging his eyes from his hands to Michael’s face. “I really shouldn’t be.”

 

Michael smiled a tiny smile, attempting to reassure Gavin without saying anything more.

 

A couple of steps in silence later, Michael sighed audibly, and before Gavin could ask what was wrong, Michael was stepping in front of him and speaking.

“You know, sometimes I wonder,” Michael began as Gavin’s eyebrows flew up, stopping abruptly. “About you and me.” Michael saw Gavin’s mouth drop open slightly and Michael held himself back from laughing at the other man’s cute, dumb little responses.

 

“Like if I hadn’t been Jones’ Games. And if you hadn’t been Achievement Hunter.” Michael paused, staring straight into Gavin’s eyes. “If I hadn’t put you out of business, and you and I had just met, or I had seen you on the street. Maybe in a coffee shop, where you dropped your coffee on me, or vice versa. Or I just saw you sitting down and I would’ve seen you there, with your terribly simple little coffee order.”

 

Gavin nodded, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” There was a tiny, sad smile on his face. Almost as if he was thinking about it.

 

“Yeah,” Michael continued. “You know, I would’ve asked you out.”

 

Gavin’s gaze fell on Michael again, searching. He looked as though he were about to say something. Michael didn’t give him the chance to speak.

 

“I would’ve asked for your number. And I wouldn’t have been able to wait to call you. That night I’d have picked up the phone, dialed your number, and said, ‘Hey, it’s Michael. The guy you bumped into today. Do you want to go out for coffee, or drinks, or a movie? Whatever you want …for as long as we both shall live?’”

 

Gavin blinked repeatedly, unable to look Michael in the eye. He pushed a hand through his hair, glancing quickly at Michael’s face and immediately looking away afterwards. “Michael–”

 

“We would’ve never gotten into this mess, and – and our only fights would be what video games to play on a Saturday night in. Banjo Kazooie. Maybe a little Mario or Halo.”

 

Gavin smiled immediately, gaze resting on Michael again. Michael nodded, a little smile on his face reflecting Gavin’s.

 

“Who really fights about that stuff though?” Gavin offered, pushing a hand into his pocket.

 

Michael shrugged. “Some people do.” He paused slightly before continuing. “Not us, though.”

 

Gavin nodded immediately. “Of course not – we’d never.”

 

There were a few seconds of silence as they stared at each other.

 

“If only.” Michael said quietly, gaze steady on the man standing in front of him.

 

Gavin let out a breath.

 

“I really have to go, Michael.”

 

“Yeah, don’t be late for …you know.” Michael smiled, stepping out of the way.

 

Gavin stared at him for a long moment before he shook his head quickly and walked briskly into his apartment building.

 

Michael nodded to himself, refusing to let himself watch Gavin walk away, his hands shaking slightly. Then a little smile bloomed on his face, and he lifted his arm to check the time.

 

_4:26 P.M. Not too bad, Mikey._

****

He lowered his arm and headed off to his apartment to pick up Bowser.

 

-

 

Gavin, panicking, flew into his apartment and fumbled with his key ring for a full minute before he was pushing the door open easily and stumbling up the stairs to his place.

 

What the fuck was Michael even _doing_ , on the day that he…

 

No – today was the day Gavin Free met the guy he pretty much wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The guy that he loved.

 

_Pretty much_.

 

Kind of, sort of – whatever, it didn’t _matter_ , he and Michael couldn’t _actually_ be together. They had a bad history, didn’t they? Michael put him out of business, and he was a dick to him, and – and he was there when mogarj stood him up, and Michael took care of him when he was sick, he brought him flowers and video games, he bought him coffee and sandwiches, he carried Gavin’s cactus, he held Gavin in his arms in a certain way, and he had this _smile_ …

 

But – no, who was he kidding? None of that mattered. He was meeting the guy who was sweet to him via the magic of email.

Yeah.

He was meeting mogarj, the cute guy with the dog named after a video game character, the guy who stayed up all night with him when he was beating himself up over an interaction with Michael, and – _no_. mogarj was the guy who was there for him, and cared for him, and might even love him, if they had enough time and gave this whole thing a try.

Not Michael Jones, the guy who screwed up his damn thought process half an hour before he had to meet mogarj.

 

Gavin shook his head slightly. He found himself standing awkwardly in the doorway of his apartment.  
  
He took a step forward, casting a glance to his right. His eyes immediately fell on the tiny cactus that he had picked up from the farmer’s market with Michael, and a minuscule smile popped up on his face. He walked up to it, unconsciously multitasking by unhooking his belt and removing it from his hips on the way to the counter on which it was perched. He finally smirked down at the plant happily, leaning over slightly to examine its prickly leaves.  
  
“Hey, Jones.”

-

  
Sixteen and a half minutes later, Gavin had changed into slightly more proper clothing and was making his way back to Riverside Park. Emphasis on _back_ , as he had literally just met Michael there not two hours ago.

But no – again, just no – he didn’t want to think about Michael bloody Jones. He accidentally sped up quickly before internally slapping himself and immediately slowing back down, berating himself for being so anxious. It was just a meet-up, if it didn’t work or something went wrong, they’d just go back to email, wouldn’t they?

Gavin nearly tripped on a tiny branch when he made it into the tiny garden in Riverside Park. He smoothed out his light blue dress shirt nervously, adjusted his black belt, and wiped his hands on his trousers.

He repeated that twice more and checked his wristwatch twelve times in the span of five minutes. It was 5:01 P.M.

 

After the thirteenth time that Gavin looked down to stare at the seconds passing by on his watch, he heard loud, slightly obnoxious barking coming from his left. He turned, only to see a medium-sized golden retriever running up the little slope to the garden.

Gavin’s heart beat sped up, stuttered, and almost stopped completely.

A man’s voice started calling out, “Bowser! Bowser, you asshole, get back over here!” as Gavin went up onto his tip toes to see the owner of the dog.

All he saw was a mop of curly, reddish brown hair.

The man continued to call out Bowser’s name casually as Gavin huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly at the sight of Michael Jones, wondering why he had come back to the park –

Gavin stopped laughing.

Gavin also stopped breathing.

Bowser ran past him, brushing against his pant leg.

Michael walked up to him casually, a tiny, nervous smile on his face, shrugging nonchalantly as if to say, “what can you do?”

He stopped moving, inches away from Gavin.

Gavin realized that he was crying, a little bit.

Michael kept his distance, still smiling nervously. “Don’t cry, dickie bitch. Please don’t cry.” He shook his head, trying to keep his hands from shaking uncontrollably.

Gavin smiled shakily, reaching out to grab Michael’s wrist gently. “I wanted it to be you.”

Michael leaned into him.

“I wanted it to be you so badly.”

They smiled at each other.

Michael moved, pulling Gavin in gently by the sway of his back, kissing his dumb, smiling lips as lightly as he possibly could.

Gavin suppressed a laugh and ran his hand through Michael’s hair from the back, deepening the kiss, running his tongue lightly over Michael’s bottom lip. They simply held each other close for as long as they possibly could, lips moving against each other’s, clinging.

They only broke the kiss when Bowser ran up to them and head butted their legs, begging for attention.

They looked down at him, smiled, and turned back to each other.

They had nothing to wonder about anymore.

-

**EPILOGUE**

(AKA What Happened Next)

-

**December 2012**

“Shit, shit, shit, _shit_ , dude, you’ve gotta fix my collar or something, jesus fucking _christ_ ,” Ray whimpered, running up to Michael, his hands pulling anxiously at his collar and tie.

Michael turned around immediately, his own hands stilling from where he had been adjusting his own tie in the mirror behind him. “Dude, calm the fuck down. It’s not that bad.”

Ray’s bushy eyebrows flew up and an incredulous expression slid across his face. “Not that bad? _Not that bad_ , Michael, I – fuck!” Ray’s heads fell onto his waiting hands, and Michael smirked at him as he watched his best friend face-palm sadly. He reached out slowly and gripped Ray’s wrists gently before pulling his hands away from his face. Ray’s face was flushed pink.

Michael let Ray’s wrists go, and his hands dropped to his side. Michael raised his own hands to Ray’s collar and straightened it out before smoothing out his tie and patting down his shoulders. Ray looked up at him pitifully. Michael sighed before moving off to a side table and picking up a red rose, snapping off most of the stem before moving back towards Ray and slipping the rose into his lapel. Michael grinned happily at Ray, who had his eyes trained on the flower.

“That’s the kind of flower Joel gave to me on our first date,” he commented quietly, face still flushed slightly.

“Yeah, I know.” Michael smirked, settling his hands on Ray’s shoulders again. “You know why I know? Because I’m a good friend, and I’m an even better, kick ass best man.”

Ray rolled his eyes immediately, gaze shifting up from the rose to Michael’s face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Michael repeated smugly, giving the other man’s shoulders a squeeze.

“Shut up,” Ray said childishly, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, you’ll be fine. All you’ve gotta do is get up there and not trip over your own feet. You stand around, grab his hands, do a little ring thing, make out, and you’re done.” Michael exclaimed, giving Ray a tiny, firm pat on the back.

Ray scoffed, finally moving backwards, his head shaking slightly. “Got it. I mean, YOLO, right?”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Fuck you.”

Ray simply grinned in answer.

-

“Er – dearly beloved, we are gathered here to, uh, celebrate the marriage of Ray Narvaez Jr., and Joel Heyman. Marriage is the promise between two people who love each other, who trust each other, who honor each other, and who wish to spend the rest of their lives with each other,” the minister, Gus Sorola, spat out quickly and a bit nervously. Gus was a friend of Geoff’s, who had in fact conducted his own marriage with Griffon.

Standing in front of Gus were Ray and Joel, who were clasping hands with amused looks on their faces. Next to Joel was his best man, Jack Pattillo. Next to Ray was Michael, who was beaming happily, casting occasional glances at a British man seated in the pews. Kathleen (the flower girl) and Joe (the ring bearer), Ray and Joel’s adopted kids, were quietly standing next to Michael, watching their dads smile happily at each other.

After a few moments, Gus stopped bullshitting the minister’s speech and got to the point. “Ray, will you take Joel to be your lawful wedded husband? Will you love, comfort, honor and protect him; forsaking all others to be faithful to him until death do you apart?”

Ray smirked, giving Joel’s hand a quick squeeze. “I do.”

“Uh-huh. And Joel, will you take Ray to be your lawful wedded husband? Will you love, comfort, honor and protect him; forsaking all others to be faithful to him until death do you apart?”

Joel smiled softly, nodding as he said, “I do.”

Gus motioned for Joe to step forward with the rings about three times before he stumbled forward. As Gus dictated the ring ceremony, Joel and Ray slipped their rings on each other’s fingers before interlocking them again, with Ray cheekily rolling his eyes at his almost-husband.

Gus held back a smile. “Well, by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss your groom.”

Joel grinned, stepping forward smoothly and pulling in Ray for a deep kiss. The members of the church behind them burst into cheers, with the screams of a certain Gavin Free being the loudest. Kathleen and Joe scrunched up their noses, and Michael fistpumped childishly before kneeling down and pulling them into a huge hug.

-

The newlywed couple had their wedding reception in downtown Manhattan, by the water. Their respective families had a fun night dancing around recklessly, with Ray and Joel’s first dance being one filled with utter awkwardness and smiles. Joel almost broke his nose tripping over his own feet, and Ray almost fell backwards laughing at him.

Ray was currently dancing with Kathleen standing on his feet, guiding her around the makeshift dance floor. Joe, who hadn’t wanted to be left out from the festivities, had launched himself onto Joel’s back and made his father dance in that fashion. The family was out on the dance floor. Even The Ramseys were out on the dance floor, with Millie dancing in the middle of Griffon and Geoff’s outstretched arms. Michael Jones was seated next to his boyfriend on the sidelines.

“So? What do you think?” Michael said quietly, arm resting casually on the table. He, seated at the head of the table, had Gavin seated directly next to him, so they ended up only being a couple of inches away from each other at the reception. The only thing between them right now was the corner of the table.

“Of what?” Gavin replied softly. He avoided Michael’s gaze playfully, instead keeping his eyes trained on the stupid, dancing families in front of them.

Michael’s hand flexed slightly. “Of this.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow at Michael’s words, lips quirking up slightly when Ray picked Kathleen up and began to spin her around, her dress flowing beautifully. “This as in the wedding? Or the dancing?”

Michael bit his lip to hold back a smile, scooting his chair forward so as to be a little closer to Gavin. “Everything. Talk to me, you little shit.”

Gavin let out a soft giggle as he finally turned to Michael, giving his boyfriend all of his attention. “ _Well_ , I love the flowers. Roses everywhere.”

Michael nodded, grinning at Gavin’s stupid hair. “Ray’s favorite.”

“I also love the music, and the people, and the dancing,” Gavin continued, dragging it out.

“Mm-hmm,” Michael prompted.

Gavin made a serious face. “I love seeing you in a suit.”

Michael raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Gavin rolled his eyes and smacked Michael square in the chest. Michael caught his hand before Gavin could pull it away and held it in between his own hands. “Do you, now?”

“Shut up, _Mogar_ ,” Gavin spat out, attempting to pull his hand back – to no avail.

Michael leaned forward, still holding Gavin’s hand in between his own. “Uh-huh, _Mark Nutt_.”

Gavin blushed bright red at the sound of the stupid AOL screen name he had literally made up at the age of twelve. “Ugh, let me go, you arse hole.”

“Never,” Michael whispered harshly, an impish grin on his face.

Gavin pouted for a solid minute before Michael relented, swiftly standing, taking Gavin’s hand with him. Gavin simply raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Wanna dance, dickie bitch?” Michael asked happily, swinging his arm back and forth until Gavin sighed heavily and stood up as well.  
  
“Will it get you to shut up?” he asked sardonically.

“Possibly. Most likely not.” Michael shrugged before letting his voice slip into a whine. “Please Gavvy, I wanna be sappy.”

Gavin let out a tiny giggle before giving Michael a tiny nod. Michael then led him to the makeshift dance floor. Gavin’s right hand went behind Michael’s neck, with his other hand clasped with Michael’s. Michael’s left hand was balanced on Gavin’s hip, and they began to sway easily to the music.

After they got used to dancing like an old married couple, Michael shifted slightly and Gavin’s head dropped onto his shoulder. Michael squeezed his hip lightly, and Gavin turned his head until his lips were nudging at Michael’s ear.

“Never thought you’d want to dance with me, Michael.”

“Mm?”

“Didn’t peg me as the type.”

Michael simply smiled, his eyes sliding closed.

They continued to sway together for the remainder of the song. When it ended and morphed into another sad, slow ballad, Gavin pulled back a little so that he could kiss Michael lightly on the lips. When they broke apart again, Michael’s cheeks were slightly pink.

“Hey. What d’you think of this?” he asked quietly, still swaying to the music with Gavin.

“You asked me that already, Michael,” Gavin said matter of factly, his fingers pushing upwards until the tips of his fingers grazed the beginnings of Michael’s curly hair.

“I meant _marriage_. What do you think of that?” Michael questioned, gaze shifting from Gavin’s bemused features to the ecstatic form of his best friend, dancing excitedly behind Gavin.

The other man was quiet for a few moments.

“Michael – I… what?”

“Hold on.” Michael stopped them. Gavin’s face was slightly alarmed. “Twirl,” Michael continued softly, stepping back until Gavin had enough room to spin around. He raised his arm, and the other man laughed nervously before complying.

When they reassumed their previous dancing positions, Michael spoke again. “Well?” he prompted.

Gavin was silent for a beat and a half, still swaying. “Is this a proposal?”

Michael smirked immediately. “You were in my pants this morning, there wasn’t a ring box in there.”

Gavin rolled his eyes.

“This isn’t a proposal. I’m not prepared.”

“Oh.” Gavin said quietly. His eyes were smiling. “Let me know when you’re prepared then, eh?”

Michael paused. He absorbed Gavin’s words. Then he immediately smirked and pulled Gavin in for a long, deep kiss.

-

On 116th and Riverside, Michael Jones’ and Gavin Free’s apartment is currently empty, save for a happily sleeping, snuffling golden retriever named Bowser. However, if one moves past the sleeping dog most likely sprawled across the door mat inside the apartment, one will see a laptop computer set on one of the tables in the flat.

The laptop is purposefully open.

On sleep mode.

When Gavin Free returns home with his boyfriend, he’ll move the cursor, and he’ll immediately be signed into an AOL email account called ‘marknutt’. He’ll see that he’s got mail.

There’ll be a ton of spam due to the inactivity of the email account, but one email will catch his eye.

An email from ‘mogarj’.

He’ll open the email.

-

**December 4 th, 2012**

6:58 P.M.

**NEW MESSAGE FROM** : mogarj! **SUBJECT LINE** : A Proposal

 

will you marry me?

 

-

Gavin Free will shut his laptop, confused, amused, shocked, and scared –

And Michael Jones will be next to him on one knee, ring box in hand.

 

 

 


End file.
